Rutilus Animus
by Caitira
Summary: Two broken mirrors reflect two broken people. He could offer no physical, no emotional comfort. But he could stay. So he did. Do two broken halves make a whole? Post war fic, domestic abuse themes. Starts HGRW later HGSS
1. Chapter 1

**Rutilus Animus. **

The Golden Soul.

This is my first SS/HG fic, so I apologise in advance. I have also already planned this story, so it will not be abandoned half way through, I promise. However I am not entirely happy with the ending so any ideas would be welcome.

Unfortunately I do not own Harry Potter. No infringement intended.

**Chapter 1. An introduction. **

It's a difficult change to go through. One day everyone hates you, and thinks that your heart and soul are black as night. Except that it's worse than that, because some women find a cold man a challenge. To have truly no one care about you, bar your own mother, and then the next day, thanks to some bloody newspaper article, everybody thinks you are a hero.

Somebody saved him. Somebody saved Severus Snape. Proof, surely, that someone cared enough to save him? But of course, not enough to show their face.

People's lives had changed for the better since the end of the war. But sitting in his cold manor during the summer break, Severus Snape had never felt more alone. Passing the days until his return to Hogwarts by downing Firewhiskey, with only his house elf to check on him, he no longer succumbed to normal human desires. Thinner than ever, dark hair longer and greasier, skin paler and stubble rugged, he barley recognised himself when he looked in the grimy and cracked mirror.

***

Her lips tasted of honey. Laying in bed, gazing at her, that was the first thought that entered Harry Potter's mind that morning as he kissed his fiancée gently, his rough hands stroking her forehead and brushing her scarlet hair from her perfect face. Her eyes fluttered open, and Harry drank in every detail of her.

Harry's fingertips traced the line of Ginny's face, over her coral lips, across her jawline. His fingers traced her slender neck and she smiled. He kissed her again and his hands moved to the protruding bump of her stomach and came to rest there. He leant back against the sky blue pillows, with Ginny's soft fragrant hair tickling his chin as she rested her head on his chest. Feeling her husband-to-be breathing slowly she knew he was relaxed and happy.

With a great crash, the door to the blissful couple's bedroom slammed open. Two whirling dervishes of auburn hair and pale skin catapulted themselves onto the bed, and began to bounce on the feet of the famous Harry Potter. "So much for a Sunday lay in!" He grinned at Ginny, stealing a cheeky kiss before capturing one whirlwind under each arm and wrestling them down the hallway and stairs into the kitchen.

Ginny traced her lips where Harry had kissed them. She loved his touch, his smell, just being near him. She could not have imagined a happier life for herself. Her children had striking faces, smouldering eyes to match flaming hair, generous amounts of spunk and the amazingly pure spirit of their father. She couldn't wait for the next one to arrive.

***

The morning light was doing it's best to stream through the dark curtains, it really was. The light that had made it through skimmed dusty photos, an old oak mantle piece, broken empty bottles, and bounced off the embers in the fire grate. All in all the room was fairly dark.

Ron Weasley missed his brother. People thought he had it all- the perfect beautiful girlfriend he had known since school, the big house, the amazing job. They would have had kids too, but unfortunately for the perfectly suited couple Hermionie had been in a car accident which had caused her to have a miscarriage. She still refused to ride a goddamn broom. The quick witted witch herself had survived- but Ron's sanity had not.

He could not lose more people. He had lost a brother, a mentor (Remus), and so many other losses in the war. And now he had lost a child as well. Now his only reminders were the many photos littering the room. Numerous faces beamed at him- happy and oblivious in their photographic and simplistic words. But he was numb. Even alcohol did not help. Even Hermionie could not help, although God knew she had tried.

She sat with him every night and every day, seeing him through the dark times and the good. She loved and was devoted to him, he knew that. He could not lose her as well. Which is why, when she mentioned her applying to be a healer, he had screamed. He had banged his fists against her and wept that there was no way she could leave, he was so scared she would not come back.

Fear. Fear was why he beat her. She could not leave he would make her stay. He could not lose her as well.

He was not a well man. Hermionie knew that. Which was why every time she had a black eye she made excuses, she knew he was protecting her from the outside world. He was not a bad person. This she repeated. For every blow there was another repetition. A broken rib. He's just afraid. A black eye. It's because he loves me. Hand shaped bruises. I know he's a good person. A broken ankle. He's a good person. Please, let him be a good person.

Similar to Severus Snape, Hermionie Granger owned a mirror. One she could not bare to look into. She knew how she looked. Dry, unloved hair. Chapped and sore lips. Bruised skin. Eyes that reflected a sadness that ran so deep the mirror itself wanted to sob. Which is why the only mirror in the house faced the wall.

The once great Hermionie hated her reflection. This was not who she was. The now great Severus Snape hated his reflection. It was not who he was. Two cracked and unloved mirrors reflected two cracked and unloved people.

**A/N: I hope you like. Will try to update soon reviews will be appreciated. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2. Future prospects. **

For some people getting ready takes ten minutes. For some it can take hours. For some it is about covering the darkness with make up and charms to appear beautiful. For some it is about looking like you haven't been chasing two toddlers from dawn til dusk.

Hermionie Granger did not know where to begin. She contemplated turning around the big mirror to get a full view, but decided against it. At the moment, she did not need concealing charms. Her skin was tender but not visibly bruised. It had been a good week- she and Ron had sat infront of the fire, her telling him about the perfect future they could one day have. With the big house and the good job and the children. Miss Granger had a good imagination.

She soothed clear Vaseline over her lips. They felt sore, and the cool jelly soothed them, making them appear as soft as fleshy rosebuds. The contrast of the creamy pink stood out against her sallow skin tone, but there was nothing she could do about that now. She swept her long chestnut hair back into a bun, letting a couple of spiralling tendrils frame her face. She often wondered what the child of her and Ron would've looked like. Worst case scenario, freckles, buck teeth and frizzy hair. Mostly her features, she felt. Best case: flaming hair, milky skin, long supple limbs and dimples. Mostly his features. Running her long fingers through her hair, she knew she would never be beautiful. She didn't know why Ron was so worried about her leaving; no one else would be stupid enough to have her.

Sighing, and wrapping her cloak tighter around her, she went to see if Ron was ready to leave.

Flicking on the lights in the living room, Ron groaned. He was presentable, just about, but his eyes were extremely bloodshot. Angry red stubble lined his masculine jaw, and his hair hung limply on his head. Hermionie strode over to him and looked him in the eyes.

" I love you" she softly told him, one hand on either side of his head stroking his hair. "We need to get out of this house. I know Harry and Ginny miss you so much, seeing them will do you good." He merely grunted in response, but Hermionie considered this an improvement. Guiding him towards the fire place, Hermionie grabbed a handful of the glittering black powder. She had always marvelled at how a simple powder could shift reality to make you appear in a place geographically insignificant to your start point. In a new location of your choice. She wished there was a powder that could do the same for lives.

***

Ginny shrieked as Harry dove round the corner of the bathroom and wrapped his arms around her waist, taking her by surprise.

"Hide me the twins want piggybacks!" He begged, begging his fiancée with puppydog eyes to protect him from his children. "Quick, in the shower and pull the curtain across" she giggled, swatting him away from her. That was one thing the war hadn't changed. Harry had somehow retained his innocence, he was not haunted by the things he had done. He truly believed everything that he had done had contributed to making the world a better place. If only her brother could be the same. She sighed, looking down towards her bump. Harry's head poked through the shower curtains- it looked as though it was floating.

"What's up hun?" he asked, looking concerned.

"Just thinking doll." She looked up and smiled. "You want to watch out for your children"

Pulling his head back inside the curtains, Harry's muffled voice could be heard coming from inside.

"And you want to watch you don't hurt yourself thinking. Anyway how come they're my kids when they want piggy backs and yours when they want a story?"

"KIDS! Your dad's in the shower!" Ginny yelled, an evil smirk covering her face.

"You wench!" Harry yelled as he was cannonballed by two toddler shaped balls of energy, all three falling over into the bath wrapped up in shower curtain.

***

Sat in the cafe Hermionie ordered herself and Ron coffees. Ron gazed into the dark liquid, sniffed it and grimaced. The strong smell made him feel sick, and made all the noises in the quiet cafe sound like hammers on his skull. He hated being sober, preferred to cover hangovers with more drink. It usually helped.

Hermionie was just sipping from her cup when the door to the cafe tinkled open, and Harry and Ginny entered, smiling and laughing. Hermionie grinned back.

"No twins today then?" she asked, looking suspiciously at Ginny's stomach. She had always known Harry wanted a large family- and suspected that the pair had something to tell her and Ron, if Ginny's baggy clothing was anything to go by.

"No Molly has them. We didn't think we fancied getting criminal records for disturbing the peace by bringing them out." Ginny replied, sinking into a seat and ordering a tea from the waitress. "Can't be dealing with coffee- the smell makes me sick. Speaking of which, we have something to tell you guys."

"Pregnant again?" Hermionie smirked. She looked over to Ron to see if any of this was penetrating his stupor, but he was just gazing sadly into the mug of coffee in front of him, avoiding her gaze.

"How did you...?" Harry laughed, "Well they don't call you the smartest witch in existence for nothing!"

"Congratulations, I'm so happy for you!" Hermionie exclaimed, getting up to hug Ginny.

"Thanks." Harry replied. "Don't know how we're going to manage though....Auror hours aren't exactly family friendly."

"You could give up work." Hermionie said thoughtfully. "It's not like you need the money, thanks to the ministry's 'please keep quiet don't tell anyone how rubbish we were in the war' payoff we all got."

"Yeah but I'd like to be doing something, you know? Though I do think I will move away from catching dark wizards, there aren't many left, truth be told."

"What were you thinking of?"

The door to the cafe opened, sending a gust of cool autumn air into the room. Harry glanced around, noticing his best friend glaring stubbornly at his mug of coffee. He was worried about Ron.

"Maybe part time healing. Very rewarding, and i could do it as an apprenticeship. Like you said I don't need the money so the lower wage dosen't matter." He glanced across at Ginny next to him. She looked like everything that made him happy wrapped into one. Just looking at her made everything ok. He wondered if Ron looked at Hermionie that way.

"Well that certainly fits in with your saving people thing." Hermionie chuckled. She could see the war Harry was looking at Ginny too. It made her ache inside, to know that such pure love existed.

"What about you and Ron? You certainly never liked doing nothing before we left school." Ginny asked, taking Harry's hand and stroking his palm with her thumb.

"Don't need to do nothing" Ron grunted, glancing up. "Hermionie wants to stay with me and I want to stay with her."

Hermionie tutted.

"While that is true, I have actually been offered a job."

Ron looked up sharply- this was news to him. Harry noticed this and wondered if an argument was brewing.

"Minerva wrote to me last week. She needs someone to cover Neville's post as Herbology professor whilst he is off on paternity leave. She said that after he comes back she is more than happy to offer me the post of permanent charms professor as well." She blushed, looking pleased. She so wanted to take the job, to be back in a place of learning. But she was worried. She knew Ron would not react well.

"Hermionie that's great!" Ginny squealed, oblivious to Ron's obvious displeasure. Harry tightened his grip on her hand.

"Do you know, I haven't got a drink yet." He laughed uneasily. "Ginny, come to the bar and help me choose." She looked at him questioningly but followed when he rose from his chair and walked away.

"How could you??" Ron hissed at his girlfriend. "I always knew you were selfish and heartless but I never thought you would choose books over me!"

He grabbed her wrist, and she yelped in suprise, causing Harry to glance back at the pair. He did not like what he saw in Ron's eyes. True, he suspected that it was mostly fuelled by firewhiskey, but the true rage he saw flickering on Ron's face scared him. And it looked like it scared Hermionie too.

"Home. Now." Ron whispered in a low, raspy tone. Still having hold of Hermionie's wrist, he apparated back to their home, taking Hermionie by surprise and causing her to fall to the floor.

Looking up in fear, Hermionie knew what was coming. She loved Ron so much. But she couldn't help him. She had known what was coming for a long time.

The pain was unbearable.

**A/N: sorry! I hope this chapter isn't confusing. As always, reviews are appreciated. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Props to ****Spellbindersasuke ****for being my so far only reviewer, though the story is getting a lot of hits so I'm happy ******** Don't worry guys Snape will appear soon, I just didn't want it to move too fast as I want to make it as believable as can be. When you consider it's all made up. ******

The dusty light streamed in through the window. The occupant of the bed stirred. He groaned. The drink was almost worth the headache the next morning. But of course he didn't drink because he liked the taste.

At first he drank to forget. Then he drank....just because. It was like his food. Everyone had left him. Except Hermionie. God he loved her. He tried to think of the last time he had really looked at her. Of course, he knew what she looked like. He knew her features, blurred as they may seem these days. But he wondered when the last time was that he had actually looked at her and drank in her appearance in the cold light of day. He could remember their engagement party....she was so beautiful. Deep green dress...curly tresses....milky skin. A smile.

He rolled over in his bed to look at her, the sheets rustling. The rolling hurt- it didn't help his sense of balance in the early morning. Blinking through stiff eyes, he tried to focus. But then he realised- she wasn't there. He groaned, realising he'd have to get out of bed to find his fiancée.

Standing up, shuffling to the stairs, he cried out in pain as his head hit the ceiling rafter above the top stair. The crack resonated throughout his brain- it more than hurt him, it _reminded _him. He felt it, heard it, could remember hearing the crack of a head hitting a solid surface more than once.

He sank to his feet, sitting on the top stair, holding his head in his hands. His thoughts were running like sand through his fingers....he couldn't quite grasp them. He tried despairingly to think, to _remember. _Flashes of images ran through his mind. It was similar to the cracking noise made when one apparated, but no that wasn't it.

Apparition though... He remembered bringing Hermionie home through apparition last night, knowing how much she hated it. She hated most magical methods of travel, truth be told.

There was another type of crack though....the sound belts made when they flew through the air, the sound of furniture snapping, and the sound of glass bottles breaking...all of these sounds seemed familiar, like pieces of a hazy puzzle. But he did not know why. Though if anything, the sound of the glass was more of a shattering than a crack, he mused.

Rising to his feet he continued his journey down the stairs. He reached the oak door to the kitchen, and reached out to push it open. In reaching out he noticed his hands. Dry, split skin, covered in rusty red stains. His knuckles looked bruised, and he wondered how it had happened. Overall he was not so far enjoying his experience of being sober; usually swigging from the spirits he kept under his pillow before he even got out of bed.

Looking up in surprise, he realised that it was not Hermionie sat at his kitchen table, but two of his old professors. Minerva and Severus gazed at him, looking apprehensive and stern as applicable.

Minerva motioned to Ron to sit down, which he did, still looking dazed. "Where's Hermionie?" He slurred, not used to speaking so soon after waking. Severus recoiled, plainly smelling the remnants of last night's alcohol on his breath.

Minerva sighed, looking at her feet. "Mr Weasley, we have had to remove Miss Granger from this house." He looked stunned.

"Why?" He asked, becoming enraged. She had promised she would never leave him, and had yet deserted him for these idiotic Professors. They had been through thick and thin, he had loved her, whispered to her that she was his, and his alone.

"Mr Weasley do you remember what happened last night?" Minerva asked sympathetically.

"No I had been .... I don't remember."

"For God's sake Weasley are you that much of a drunkard that you do not remember the intense maltreatment of your girlfriend? Though I doubt you can still call her that after last night." The potions master sneered at the man sat in front of him, who appeared to be reduced to the state of a boy.

"What do you mean?" Ron choked. "She is my fiancée and what we do behind closed doors is our own business!"

Snape leaned forward, his face barely an inch from Ron's.

"It becomes our business, Weasley, when we arrive to collect Miss Granger for her teacher induction, and find her sobbing on the floor. It becomes our business when she is in our hospital wing, clinging to life, desperate to return to the man who did this to her. It becomes out business when your absurd cruelty to the one person who would want to save you has to rely on us to care."

Ron looked shell shocked.

Minerva placed a hand gently on Severus's shoulder and pulled him back.

"Ronald," She began, almost nervously. "We saw enough cruelty during the war. One of our bravest heroines should not have to endure more of it at your hands. She will remain with us now at Hogwarts, and take up permenant residence there. She will not be returning to you."

"You can't do that!" Ron growled. "I'll get her back, she can return if she wants!"

"I regret to inform you Mister Weasley, that after last night you appear to have broken her sprit. She no longer believes she can save you." Minerva shot Ron pitying look, and rose to leave. Snape remained in his seat.

"Lots of heroes were lost in the war, Mister Weasley. That is no excuse to drink yourself to an early grave, and cause more hurt to the people who, however misguided, care about you. Sort yourself out, because no one is going to do that for you now. They've all tried to many times."

**A/N: Short, I know, but it gets good soon I promise. I would really appreciate ideas and comments in reviews, i know there are lots of people reading this so thank you for that ******


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Dedicated, with thanks, to mtchar, LittleDarkFox and Spellbindersasuke. **

**Not to worry folks Ron will make more appearances. The plotline for this is slow to start with but it all quickly evolves. Though it does seem to be steering away from my plan...meh. **

"Minerva, for the last time I do not want to take care of her. I am a skilled potions master, I should not be reduced to the likes of taking care of little girls!"

Severus was not particularly happy. After removing the broken girl from her former residence, and transferring her to the hospital wing, the two professors were at a loss for what to do with her.

"Severus she is barely a girl anymore! If you weren't so wrapped up in the past, you would realise that!" Minerva huffed. It had to be the one week in which Poppy had taken her annual leave to be with her husband.

"That is besides the point. What possible help could I be? I will defend anyone who is unfortunate enough to go through what she has, but do not make the mistake of confusing that with care." True enough, when Severus Snape had seen the poor girl lying broken, crushed, disheartened girl, weeping barely conscious into the floor, he had felt a mixture of emotions. Surprise was prevalent- seemed the golden Gryffindor princess and prince were not so perfect after all.

But somewhere, stirring underneath his distanced surprise and sneer, he felt pity. Pity for the fallen hero. He could see himself in her.

Minerva sighed.

"Severus, I'm not asking you to care. But Poppy is on holiday, and I know that you and your ego know that you are the next best placed to care for Miss Granger."

"I will take care of her ... physical damages. Her mental condition is none of my concern." He stared coldly at Minerva through black eyes. He was perfectly happy not caring about people. If he did not care about people, people did not care about him and that was how he liked it. After the war everyone had offered their profuse thanks and apologies. Offers of friendship, common street whores throwing themselves at him. Fine for taking care of his... needs. On a purely superficial level. All rejected with the same coolness that penetrated his heart. He had pretended to be a cruel, heartless death eater for so long that he sometimes wondered where the act ended and the real man began.

No point trying to change that now.

"That will have to do." Minerva sighed and exited the wing of the hospital, leaving Severus alone with the ex-pupil turned teacher.

Muttering lowly under his breath, Severus pulled out his wand. First things first he would need a list of injuries so he would know what he was healing. Casting a quick assessment charm, he pulled a 'Quick Quotes Quill' out of his robes, and it scribed the list he was now dictating.

"Lacerations and welts to the lower back, likely from a belt... signs of restricted airflow to the brain due to strangulation could explain the unconscious state, if the throat marks are anything to go by... fingernail scratches and bruises on the wrists and lower arms...there is an injury to the back of the head however it seems to predate the rest...looking to have been done two to three weeks ago. Hmm. Palms of hands and feet look bruised, most likely due to attempts at defence. Silly girl seems to have forgotten she is a witch. Burn marks to the waist and abdomen, one cracked vertebrae in lower back..." He smirked. "Maybe due to carrying so many books."

"Deep scars run across the stomach and back, but this may be due to a car crash two months prior to ... the incident. Does not seem to have been healed at the time. Signs of internal damage....due to a ... miscarriage..." He immediately felt guilty for his earlier 'joke'. The poor girl's fate was unfortunate. Thankfully most of her injuries were not serious and could be healed with a good few doses of Dittany. The more serious- fractured bones, internal damage, the head wound- would require a few potions, which he knew he would need to brew.

He glanced down at Hermionie, laying in the bed. A bit taller than the last time he had properly looked at her – she had been 16 at the time- she still looked like the same mousy haired Gryffindor. The personification of everything he despised. Noble, brave, loved. Well, if last night was anything to go by, maybe not loved. But the way she so effortlessly seemed to have everything she wanted in life- he despised her for that.

He growled under his breath, and reprimanded himself for being so self pitying. He had made his bed the day he had betrayed Lilly- he now had to lie in it. His betrayal of Lilly had lead to everything going wrong- the taking of the dark mark, agreeing to be a spy, everyone hating him. The use of that awful word- mudblood. Sure, he could make a resolution. Now that the war was over, he could vow to never be that person again, to be happy, to remain un-haunted by the visions of his past. But he was so far into his life that he doubted he could ever change.

Waving his wand again, Dittany was applied to Hermionie's superficial cuts and lacerations. Snape had agreed to take care of her, but he would not touch her. He did not want the warmth of another human close to him. He didn't need the nostalgia.

"Professor?" Hermionie croaked, opening her eyes. Upon seeing him, her cheeks burnt a russet shade of shame. She could distinctly remember her two colleagues turning up at her house, finding her curled up, naked in her drawing room. Sobbing into the carpet for everything that was lost and could not be saved- sometimes she wondered if that included herself.

"Miss Granger no words are necessary. I will heal you but I do not wish for an explanation of your injuries. For that you may require speaking to Minerva."

She looked at him in confusion, opening her mouth again to speak, but he raised his hand to indicate the required silence.

"I am aware of your extensive injuries. I have healed the superficial, minor assaults to your person, and the potions required to rid you of the injuries more severe....will be ready by tomorrow. Until then I suggest you do not leave your bed."

With that, the aloof professor swept himself from the room, leaving Hermionie thoroughly alone. She knew it was wrong to wallow in self pity. But of course, how could she not. When everyone found out what had happened....Harry would, of course, stick by his best friend. The Weasleys would stick by their son and brother, respectively. Her parents were long gone victims of the war, she had no siblings. No other close friends. Not for the first time, Hermionie felt truly alone.

**A/N: I know this isn't a particularly happy or active chapter but you will get more action soon I promise. **

**As always, I adore reviews and they motivate me to update faster. **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thanks again to all my reviewers, I am getting more ideas for how to continue this by the day so you have been a great help. Am also back on track with my story plan. Am aiming for this fic to be about 20 chapters but after I have added everything will prob be more like 25. **

**Chapter 5.**

Severus watched the various potions simmer in his office. People often underestimated the precise science of potions. Muggle born students would often compare it to cooking- how stupid. The acute arrangement of ingredients, the complimentary smells, textures, chemical properties – one wrong step and the results could be deadly. It was a science and it was an art. To create your own potion could be a thing of beauty and joy.

Currently, he was making several batches of Skelegrow. Having been in the hospital wing for approximately a week, Miss Granger had exhausted his supplies and he had been driven to brew more. She did not need any more- but it never hurt to have a batch ready just in case.

He had been pleasantly surprised at the demeanour of Hermionie. He had expected the annoying little know it all to push her company upon him, to tell him all her trivial problems. He would've snapped at her not to be so insolent as to assume that he cared, and that would've been the end of it.

But she hadn't tried to talk to him. Not even once. He was relieved in a way – and frustrated. He needed someone to take his foul moods out on and she had not given him any excuses. She sat silently whilst he administered potions, did not look him in the eye, did not make a single mistake except to sit there looking solemn and sad. He huffed and returned to his potions.

***

Minerva swept past the hospital wing, her robes skimming the floor behind her, basking in the dust. Looking through the windows, she could see Hermionie laying on the bed. She didn't look angry, she didn't look sad. She looked blank. Devoid of emotion, waiting out her stay so that she could return to normal life. Minerva sighed.

She had tried to talk to the poor girl, tried to find out exactly what happened, if the girl was ok, but her mouth had remained resolutely closed. Minerva cast her mind back to the days when Hermionie was a student. She had been bright, vivacious, and enthusiastic. Now the only thing she would talk about was her teaching duties, due soon to begin. It was only a matter of weeks now before the students returned for a new year. Hermionie would take up the post of Herbology professor, and one Neville returned, Charms professor. Hermionie had not even been given a tour of the teacher's floor yet.

"Enough moping." The elderly professor scolded herself. "Staying stuck in the past never did anyone any good. Today is the day." Opening the door to the hospital wing, she had made up her mind. Today, Professor Granger would be joining her and Severus for breakfast. And then Severus would give her a tour of the teacher's floor of the castle. And that was that.

***

Tentatively, Hermionie dressed for breakfast. Minerva had delivered the news that today she would be joining the two residential professors for breakfast, and later taking a tour of the castle. She was nervous, could feel her heart beating against her ribcage. She didn't know why, but the thought of dining with a formidable potions master scared her. She was still stuck in the mentality that around every corner was danger, that no where was safe. Surely that included the castle?

Pulling her conker brown hair into a bun on the back of her head, she left the hospital wing. The castle was a familiar place, she knew she was safe here. She was just being silly. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Nothing could get her in here. Not even Ron.

She felt so guilty. As she walked to the great hall for breakfast she knew in her heart of hearts that she had abandoned her former best friend and lover. She was a horrible human being. He needed her help and she had run. Who was he going to take his anger out on now? Now that she was gone. She would never forgive herself for that.

Sitting at the long, grand oak table, she glanced at the familiar hall. This place felt like home. It felt right. So why had she not felt right with Ron? She was so confused.

Rubbing her forehead in her fingers, she forced herself to stop thinking and start eating. True enough she had never been much of a breakfast person, but her body needed the nutrition and she was fed up of being told she was too skinny. Sinking her teeth into an orange segment, the refreshing taste flooded her mouth and she grinned. It was tiny but it was there. Simple pleasures.

The seats on either side of her were pulled out, and down sat Severus and Minerva. On the one side, veiled salvation that she had yet to discover, and on the other ... Minerva.

"Severus will be showing you the teacher's floor today Hermionie" Minerva said conversationally, reaching for the Shreddies. "Isn't that right Severus?"

A grunt.

"Well that's the best answer you'll get out of him." The older professor snorted into her cereal and began eating.

"Thank you" Hermionie said quietly, looking down at her plate. She glanced up to look at Professor Snape shortly, and noticed him staring at her with an odd expression on his face. It lasted about a minute- "You're welcome." He said dismissively before returning to his toast and black coffee.

She sounded so....timid. Professor Snape continued to watch her as she ate from the corner of his eye. What had changed? She never used to shut up, now those two words were the first he had heard her utter in days. Her voice sounded so ... young. It was like she had been reduced to a child who needed protecting.

The post owls fluttered gracefully down from the ceiling, bringing the usual deliveries of newspapers and official Ministry notices. Hermionie did not notice the red envelope that had fallen onto her fruit, until it began to screech with the voices of a thousand Banshees. She had been sent a howler.

The screaming went on and on, piercing her brain, putting her in so much pain. The other teachers had looked up in surprise, as Hermionie looked at the envelope in fear, knowing what was coming next. Ron had inherited his mother's talent for infamous howlers.

"HERMIONIE! How could you leave me! Do you know what you've done! You're supposed to be here, taking care of me! ME! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE MY FIANCEE!" Snape looked across at the wretched girl – and saw not a defiant smirk as he had expected, but a face haunted with shame and guild. She couldn't believe this trash, could she?

"You said you would take care of me! You! It's all your fault! You lost our child, you made me angry you spoilt it all! Come how now and we can make it better! You said you loved me! COME HOME!" On and on the howler continued, until it eventually shrivelled up and disintegrated into a pile of ashes atop Hermionie's fruit. And she couldn't do anything.

She didn't run, she didn't cry. Didn't gasp, didn't faint. Just sat and stared, turning the ashes over and over in her fingers.

Eventually, Minerva left. The house elves cleaned round her, the tables were stripped bare. The sun grew higher in the sky, and then sunk lower. Eventually her head sunk into her hands, and then with a dull 'thunk', hit the table.

And Snape stayed. He sat next to her. He didn't say a word. He could offer no physical or emotional comfort. But he could stay. So he did.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Dedicated to all my lovely reviewers. If you are particular fans of HGSS have a look at some of the reviewers for this fic and their profiles, because they've written some smashing stories as well. **

**Chapter 6. **

The air in the great hall was stale and cool. Severus Snape waited patiently, watching the girl in front of him as she made an in depth study of the oak table underneath her face.

"I give up." Came a tiny voice, on the verge of breaking. The small voice was so full of unreleased emotion that Severus was almost tempted to take a look into her thoughts. Mulling over what Hermionie had said, he concluded that the stern approach would be best. He wanted to help her, he truly did, but it had been years since anyone had even touched his shoulder. It had been decades since he had been engaged in any kind of emotional conversation, and he had quite forgotten how one would conduct oneself in such circumstances. With a sigh he sat up.

"Miss Granger this is quite honestly ridiculous. I have been waiting to show you the teacher's floor for quite some time now and I would appreciate if you could have your breakdown after we have done that, otherwise Minerva will most likely castrate me." Silence reigned.

Then, quite unexpectedly, Hermionie sat up and giggled. She looked pale, tired, her eyes were blood shot and her hair was quite frankly a mess. But her lips twitched and she at least looked vaguely amused.

"I am glad that you have seen fit to return to the world of sitting upright. Shall we tour now? You may make it back in time for dinner if we are quick."

"O.K." Was all she said. Her voice was no longer brimming with metaphorical tears, she just sounded tired.

Professor Snape rose from his seat, his joints creaking from having been sat in one position too long. Sitting watching the fallen Gryffindor princess had given him time to consider his position. Granger, as much as he resented it, was a staff member now. He could no longer be treating her as a student, no matter how childishly she acted. As a fellow colleague, she would be within her rights to receive a few begrudged favours from him. He would supply her with dreamless sleep potions. They at least might help her to be rested. "I'm not doing it to be nice." He told himself. "If she can't sleep then she can't teach, and then my Slytherins would fall behind. That would never do."

He was having fun convincing himself.

A psychologist could have probably had a field day with professor Snape. He was transferring his wish, his desperate need to be cared for, onto Hermionie. He had seen some of himself in her. She had been through similar things to him, and helping her would help him to forget his problems. Not that he would ever admit that. At that point, he wasn't even aware what he was doing. He just had a little voice in the back of his head telling him that she was a colleague and deserved respect. That little voice's motives remained yet a mystery to the potions master.

"What was that Professor?" Hermionie enquired, raising her voice. He paused and turned to look at her as she caught up with him.

"Nothing Miss Granger, just thinking aloud. And I was thinking that if you would like them I can supply you with some dreamless sleep potions, you look as if you could do with a rest." He expected her to be thankful- to smile at least. But she stood and stared at him. Just stared, her eyes getting wider and shinier.

"Oh for heavens sake girl what is it! Where has your Gryffindor fighting spirit gone! You are not supposed to let a pathetic Weasel like that break you so badly!"

She hiccupped.

"Sorry Professor. I would be grateful for the potions."

"Excellent. You can help me brew them then, I don't see why I should do all the work for you."

He turned around with a flourish and continued walking down the corridor. Hermionie watched him for a second, and then followed. She almost smiled. She couldn't yet manage it- she still felt so guilty, so tainted, but she almost smiled.

Professor Snape lead Hermionie to the North-West tour of the castle, overlooking mountains and fields as far as the eye dared to see.

"I know I said to you that I would show you the teacher's floor; however it is a little more complicated than that. It is actually the teacher's tower. As you know we each have our own office, situated throughout the castle. We also have our own dormitories, which as the name suggests is where you sleep. These are also situated throughout the castle. Later we shall be visiting yours and I have been instructed to help you with the decorating." He paused for a second.

"The teacher's tower, however, is slightly different. It has floo connections to your office, your dormitory and your classroom. In the tower there is a room individually for your use, to use however you see fit. There are also communal facilities such as kitchens and sitting rooms, though of course you also have these in your dormitories. The crucial difference is that the students have no idea the tower exists. Students may come knocking on your office door wanting to know marks, or gain certain favours. Here they will not find you."

His last sentence had an air of finality about it. He had just spoken more in two minutes than he had in the many months since the war had ended.

Hermionie looked almost speechless. Typical bloody Gryffindor. A Slytherin would've thought of a witty comment by now.

"So...where are my office, dormitory and classroom?" She asked hesitantly, in a deadpan voice.

"Well since you are to begin teaching Herbology I would assume that your classrooms are to be the greenhouses." He smirked, and she blushed at her own obvious stupidity.

"OK know it all, but where are the other two?"

"Know it all? You can talk. Anyway, your office is situated to the left of the main entrance to the school. For ease of going between greenhouse and office. Your dormitory is 4th door to the left on Sir Cadogan's floor" He listed off, referring to the portrait of the eccentric knight willing to fight even the non-existent battles.

"And are you really going to help me decorate or are you going to laugh as I get covered in paint?" Hermionie almost dreaded the answer.

"I doubt that you will get covered in paint whilst casting colouring charms, but if you did then I would most certainly laugh. If you would kindly follow me we can commence the process." She could almost see life behind his eyes, she realised, if she looked hard enough. Though she had no idea why she was looking. She certainly didn't deserve to look.

Reaching her dormitory, she and Severus approached the portrait that guarded the entrance. Portrait however was the wrong word – it appeared to be a blank canvass.

"This, Miss Granger, is very unoriginally called a 'state canvass'. Once we have set it to recognise you, the canvass will select the image it believes best represents your state. All the teacher's offices have them. " Turning to the canvass, he cast a charm to inform it that Hermionie was the new occupant of the room.

"We installed them, because in order to change the image, the canvass has to have a blueprint of your DNA. And DNA is much harder to guess than a password." A slight hue of gold tinged Hermionie momentarily, before the image on the canvass began to change. Again, image would be the wrong word. The canvass merely changed from white to black. Pure, resolute, penetrating black. Severus merely raised a surprised eyebrow and waited for the portrait to let them in whilst Hermionie blushed.

The pair entered into what looked to be a sitting room. It had a fireplace anyway, and an open-plan adjoining kitchen. To her left were two doors, one she assumed to be a bathroom and one to be a bedroom. Her trunk, containing all the possessions she had to her name sat in the middle of the room, a solid reminder of how little she truly possessed. She sat in the trunk, resting her chin on her hands. Suddenly she once again felt very alone. She didn't intend to take Ron's howler lying down- oh she would certainly execute her revenge. But right now every word he had screamed at her rang true. She was worthless. It was the end of a very long day.

Severus, in the meantime, had busied himself looking in the decent sized bathroom and bedroom, yet to be decorated. Currently the stone walls carried a beige, please-please-paint-me look, and the floors were could and bare. Which was why he was so surprised to find Hermionie Granger laid on the floor in her new sitting room, apparently having fallen asleep there.

"Oh for goodness sake." He chided, wondering what to do next. He was about as uncomfortable with sleeping girls as he was with crying girls- he preferred his women fully conscious and with dry eyes, thank you very much. "Well she can't sleep there." He muttered, clueless as to what to do. In the end he settled for levitating the slumbering girl through the castle and down to the dungeons. He wanted to keep an eye on her, she was still in a precarious medical state. But he refused to sit in a cold stone room- not that the dungeons were much of a change.

Opening the portrait to his dormitory, he gently lowered Hermionie onto one of his sofas, using more compassion than he knew he contained. Covering her with one of the throws that littered the place, he disappeared into his own bedroom. Well she would certainly be surprised when she awoke.

**A/N:**

**I apologise for this chapter folks, it's kind of a filler. Much more good stuff to come. **

**One promise I make is that anyone who reviews will get a personal response, so anyone who wants to ask or say anything, go for it. Your reviews make my day ******

**I also have a brilliant idea for a twist, ending and sequel for this so hopefully you all won't be disappointed with the future content. **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N**: **Thank you for all your lovely reviews, I responded to you all other than 'Nutters4Potter', for some reason the site would not let me send you a message. **

**Have now finished story plans for this and the sequel, and trust me this will not end as expected. **

**Chapter 7. **

God, her neck was stiff. That was odd. She also didn't remember falling asleep on a sofa, so waking up on one was certainly odd. Her bedroom didn't usually smell of the odd- yet extremely comforting – smell of wood smoke that seemed vaguely familiar. She didn't usually sleep in her clothes- and she was beginning to think that the odd things about that morning were not a coincidence.

He was not a morning person. Particularly not after a night of disturbed sleep. It would've been nice if he'd remembered that she was prone to nightmares- as he had been forced to make several trips from his chambers to his drawing room to check on her as she screamed and cried. Not that he would tell her he had done so. He had seen her at moments of intense vulnerability- she had begged an invisible foe to stop, screamed for an imaginary loss and howled several howls wracked with guilt. All in her sleep. Her conscious mind had no recollection of the horrors that thenight brought for Hermione.

He felt guilty seeing her like that. He had no desire to talk to her about her daemons, and wished she could be stronger. Sure he wanted to help her, but he didn't know how to talk to emotional women.

Groaning, he forced himself to sit up in bed. No point wasting the day time that could be used. Showering in his en-suite, he dressed in the usual black shirt, black trousers and black robes. He liked to be colour co-ordinated.

Walking into his drawing room, he saw Hermione sitting up looking confused. "The washrooms are in the door to you left if you want to freshen up." He said gruffly, his voice not yet used to speaking so early in the day. "After that it's probably time to decorate your rooms, don't you think?" He deliberately avoided looking at the girl. If he looked at her he might feel sympathy, and his eyes might give him away.

"Thank you Professor." Hermione said in a carefully steady voice, standing up.

"Do not make a habit of thanking me Miss Granger, I do not like it. And for heavens sake stop calling me 'Professor', we are colleagues now."

"Thank you Severus then. And if you don't wish to be thanked you had better close your ears because it is the polite thing to do when someone had been nice to you." Hermione walked proudly into the bathroom, standing tall for the first time that week. Severus mused. He hadn't been thanked before.

***

Standing in Professor Snape's large washroom, Hermione stared at her reflection in the mirror. Really stared. Her skin was pale, her eyes had dark rings under them. She must remember to ask Profess... Severus for that potion. Her cheekbones were clearly visible, as was her collarbone. She was much to thin. She had a peculiar, almost soulful look to her that she quite liked. Maybe being thin was good.

Bushy hair, however, was not. Dirty robes, were not. She needed to get her head back on. "Enough is enough." She whispered to her reflection, sparks of determination glittering in her eyes. She would sort her rooms, get the potion, and then prove that she could look good. She needed it. She needed to feel good about herself. Splashing water on her face, she grinned. Time to blow the dust from the cracks.

Snape had reclined on his sofa, expecting her to be a few minutes at least. So he was understandably shocked when she breezed out of the bathroom, smiled at him and gestured to the door. "Come on Severus, I thought you wanted to get going with this?"

***

She sighed in happiness, looking around the rooms. This was the first place where **she **had decided what **she **wanted. Her rooms suited her exactly, everything about them screamed Hermione. The drawing room was stunning.

She had a feature wall that was decorated in a deep chocolate brown paint, it was central to the room and also hosted the stone fireplace. Above the fire place, central in the chocolate brown wall, was a hanging picture of the head of a rose. The intense red of the petals contrasted perfectly with the warming brown of the wall. Directly in front of the fireplace was a sofa, equally as red as the rose. It was soft, warm, just the right length for Hermionie to stretch out on. The other three walls were an iced coffee cream, again contrasting well with the reds and browns. The carpet was a soft chocolate brown....all in all the room reminded Hermione of a raspberry and chocolate desert. On the three cream walls oak bookshelves sat, filled with Hermione's favourite books. Not all of them- she could never fit her vast collection onto a few of the meagre shelves. She planned to use her room in the teacher's tower as a library, which is why there was no table in her drawing room.

Severus was impressed. He never knew she had such good taste. He had expected the standard gold and red, as was in Minerva's rooms. (Best not to ask how he knew this).

The drawing room lead through to the open plan kitchen. The two rooms together were like one long rectangle- at one end the fireplace and at the other a large sitting window. Half way through the rectangle a wooden beam separated the living room from the kitchen, which was decorated in neutral shades, with grey curtains adorning the grand window which cast a view over the lakes and mountains of Scotland.

Severus wondered briefly what decoration she had chosen for her bedroom- but had no plans whatsoever of seeing inside.

In fact, the bedroom was remarkably simple. Being in Gryffindor she already had a preference for golden colours, but here it really showed through. This was her sunshine room. One wall was compromised entirely of glass, giving her an amazing view. She had a walk in wardrobe, creamy walls and a massive four poster bed. The hangings from the bed were made of white silk- but, curiously it seemed to have a glittering golden sheen radiating from it. The bedsheets were the same- it was a bed truly fit for an angel. And although Hermione was not that, she certainly liked the colour scheme. Candles were situated throughout the room- at night time it would glow like a shining beacon in the sky. She smiled. She liked it here.

***

Knocking on the door to the dungeons, she doubted that he would be here but thought she'd try anyway. "Enter" came a low, drawling voice from within that could only belong to one man in the entire castle.

"Sorry for disturbing you Severus. I was just wondering if you needed any help...after all you have done me two favours now, I feel the need to repay you."

"And that right there, Miss Granger, is why you were not in Slytherin."

"Even so, I'd like to repay you if I can."

"I doubt that there is anything you can do to my meticulous standards." He said dismissively, looking up only briefly from his lesson plans. She looked downcast at his comment. Bloody Gryffindors. Why did he care if he hurt her feelings? Even so... "But perhaps you can brew me some dreamless sleep potion. You will soon be exhausting my supplies I expect, so you can make yourself useful and replenish my stocks." Looking back down at his papers, he scowled. Bloody radiant smile. She had no business smiling like that.

***

One hour into brewing, Hermione was beginning to look like the frustrated, bushy haired school girl she always had been. Snape sighed and rose from his desk. He didn't want anyone taking that potion to fall into a coma- he would have to help her. Tying his hair back with a black cord – it was much less greasy when it wasn't hanging over potions- and rolling his sleeves up, he walked over to Hermione. Without a word, he reached across her, and corrected her stirring patterns. Immediately, the potion changed from a sluggish orange to a brilliant jade, smooth and silky.

As he leaned across her, Hermionie started in shock. That was where she knew the smell! It was the smell of Severus. He smelled like a mixture of intense, delicious wood smoke and... Earth. He smelled raw, he smelled of nature. Not dirty, but powerful and natural. She quite liked it.

She watched his long fingers as he progressed to chopping her rootwood. He cast his gaze to her, noticed her looking. "May as well have done it myself." He muttered, causing her to blush.

"Sir..." He raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, Severus." She paused. "Can I ask you something?"

He smirked.

"You just did Miss Granger. But I assume there was something else?"

"Yes. I wouldn't usually ask.... but I can't really talk to Minerva, she's too motherly. Harry and the Weasleys are kind of out of the question at the moment..." He nodded, wondering where this was going.

"Well I was just wondering. I read recently that a theorist called Brewer thinks that people's souls will always revert to one true state. I was just wondering whether you thought most people were basically good or basically evil." She looked down at her hands, and seemed almost ashamed for having asked.

He stopped chopping for a few moments and considered the question. He considered the asker. Should he be open or should he be dismissive? It had been so long since he had had a conversation that ran beyond how to make potions.

"That is an odd question. I don't think it's possible for a person to be totally evil. But I do think that most human instincts are based on good things. Even the most despicable people....such as death eaters...." He shifted uncomfortably for a second or two. "Even death eaters, Miss Granger, have someone that they love, something they care about."

An almost uncomfortable silence reigned while Hermione considered his answer. To her it seemed queer that a man who radiated so much coldness could talk with such softness.

"Do you think that a person can be totally good, Sir?"

A sadness glazed his eyes.

"I knew an angel once. She was the only person I have met who was totally good but I know it is possible." Hermionie had no clue who he was talking about. His patronus. His memories.

Dreamless sleep potion poured over the edges of the cauldron. How rude, Hermionie thought. That had quite spoiled the moment. But it was a beginning at least.

***

Later that night, Severus lay between his charcoal sheets, thinking. How could he have been so stupid as to say that to her? Yes, his heart still ached for Lilly, but he had not talked about her for years.

But it had felt right. Like he wanted to talk. How odd.

**A/N: Hope you liked it. **

**As usual, any reviewers get a personal response. Am also developing a character who will enter later, if you have any ideas please review. Won't say who she is as it would spoil the end, but if you review I will PM and let you know, if you want. **


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: As usual, dedicated to all my lovely reviewers. **

**Chapter 8. **

Hermione also lay in her bed that night, thinking. She was, naturally, extremely curious to know who Professor Snape had been talking about. Of course she had asked the question with a person in mind. Snape had said he didn't believe that people could be truly evil... did that mean she could help Ron? _Should _she help Ron? He was her former best friend; it was, in a way, her duty to do so. And yet whenever she thought of him, her skin crawled and she felt sick. She wanted to help, and yet she felt that he should pay for what he had done to her. She was so confused.

***

Inevitably, morning came and rudely disturbed the sleep of the inhabitants in the castle. Whilst most staff members were just stirring from sleep, Minerva McGonagall had been previously up for two hours, and was now staring at the mountain of paperwork she had left to do. Sighing, she leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples with her fingers. She could handle it, she had just been too worried about Hermione over the last week to do much of her work. There was a slight tap on her door, and she quickly righted herself. The door creaked open, and in stepped Hermione.

"Hello dear" Minerva smiled

"Good morning Headmistress" Hermione replied, wondering why she had been summoned by owl that morning.

"Hermione, for some time now I have needed to talk to you." She watched as the younger woman shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "I appreciate that you may not feel comfortable talking to me about Mr Weasley, but something needs to be done. My observations are that over the last week you have been exhausted and emotional- which is understandable." Minerva tried to use her kindest voice "But as I said something needs to be done. The students return next week and you need to put on a show of strength, at least for them."

Hermionie looked down at the floor. She knew Minerva was right but she didn't know what to do.

"There are certain legal paths that could be taken considering Mr Weasley's actions....however I don't think that in doing this we would be helping your mental state dear. I don't think you're ready to deal with that yet- you need to sort things out in your own head first." Hermionie nodded numbly in agreement. She certainly didn't want to take Ron to court...it would ruin his life.

"To help you with this I have brought you something." Minerva smiled and opened her desk draw, pulling out a pensive.

"My suggestion to you, Hermionie, is that you deposit your memories concerning....what happened.... in here. This means that when you feel ready you can look at them, and in the meantime they won't be cluttering up your thoughts, which, bluntly put, means you can get on with your life."

Hermionie looked up, beaming. She was so relieved Minerva wasn't going to force her to talk that everything seemed wonderful. The sun seemed to shine brighter in the sky, and it was like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

"Thank you Minerva! Thank you so much!" she gushed, silencing as the headmistress raised her hand.

"Do not take this as an escape ticket Hermione. I still expect you to deal with the issue, I will just not force you to do so before you are ready."

***

Ron Weasley stumbled around his house blindly. He wanted something to smash but there was nothing left. All the photos of them together lay on the floor, surrounded by the smashed glass that used to make up the photo frames. All of Hermione's clothes had been burnt, along with all her precious, precious books. But now what? There was nothing left.

This was ridiculous. She was his fiancée! If he wanted to see her he could. Well, no that wasn't true, not while she was in Hogwarts. But if he could convince her to meet him in Hogsmeade... he could easily get her back to the house from there. Pulling out a quill and a peace of Parchment he began to write, being careful not to let his filthy hands smudge the ink.

***

Returning to her rooms, Hermionie felt refreshed. Minerva was right. Time for a new start. Catching sight of herself in the full length mirror in the kitchen, she paused to look. She still looked like a bloody schoolgirl. "Right." She said, determined. "A new start begins with a new me, and that means I need to go to Diagon Alley." Stepping into her fireplace, she threw the black glittering powder into the air and felt herself begin to spin.

***

As the stylist took her bags of shopping to the backroom, Hermione was guided into a chair in the salon. Behind her the stylist tutted, examining her split ends and frizzy hair. "What are we doing for you today Miss Granger?" He asked, silently begging with his eyes for her to let him rid her of the massive poodle that was apparently stuck to her head.

"Evan, you can do whatever you want." Hermione laughed. "I want something totally different that will make me look half way presentable." Evan flashed her the biggest smile she had ever seen, and lead her over to get her hair washed. "Best decision you will ever make madam." He murmured as she sat back and entrusted her tresses to his hands.

Two hours later, Hermionie could barely believe her eyes. Her hair had been permanently straightened, and cut perfectly. Layers fell framing her face, and her hair now curled only slightly at the tips, which made her hair look full of volume and bouncy. It was a gorgeous golden brown colour, and she had a side parting which caused some of her fringe to fall into her eyes. The colour brought out the deep chocolate depth of her eyes, whereas the cut brought attention to her eyes, neck and cheekbones. She looked amazing, at least she had never seen herself like this.

"Now," Evan began "We move on to makeup."

Hermionie smiled- this day was just what she needed.

Twenty minutes later, Hermione was almost finished. They just had to sort the outfit now.

Having a good complexion and aristocratic features, Hermionie had not needed much makeup. She had some very thin eyeliner on, which made her eyes appear larger and wider. Some clever mascara and eyelash curlers had given her the eyes of a beautifully made porcelain doll, wide eyed and stunning. She had a slight dab of nude lipstick on, so that it appeared her natural lips were just a bit plumper. No foundation required, but a slight lick of blusher had brought out her cheekbones wonderfully.

Now; the outfit.

Evan looked carefully through Hermione's purchases for the day. She had of course brought many robes suitable for teaching in, but underneath her robes Hermione tended to wear muggle clothes, of which she had also brought plenty. Evan eventually selected a pair of dark knee high boots for her, word over dark denim jeans, just tight enough to show her slim frame. Along with this she had a large white button up men's shirt, which was made to look feminine by pairing it with a small black fitted waistcoat. This drew attention to her tiny waist without being slutty- Hermione thought it was perfect. The final touch was a necklace of many strands- lines of pale pink pearls and silver chains, which dangled to about her naval.

Hermione was ecstatic. She looked real again.

***

The owl tapped expectantly on Hermione's window, but no one answered. Owls can't sigh, but if they could then this one would have. Flapping his wings, he went to spend the night in the school owlery. The recipient would have to wait until the morning mail run for her letter.

***

Severus cast his eyes out of the window of his room in the teacher's tower. He used his room as his private library, and often sat at the large window, gazing across the castle grounds and thinking.

Today it was raining. Fat, large heavy droplets fell from the sky in a torrent, forcing all those who wanted to stay warm and dry inside. He could see a slight patch of colourful movement in the distance, and wondered what it was. As it got closer he could see it was a person. Hermione.

He watched as she walked closer and closer to the castle- and rose one eyebrow. He had never seen her look like that before. She looked beautiful. Even with her wet hair plastered to her face, rivers of water running down her neck and chest. And she was smiling. Such a fascinating, angelic, alluring smile. For a minute he quite forgot that the person he was admiring from afar was the know-it-all Gryffindor. And as he watched her she stopped, in the middle of the grounds, and raised her arms to the sky. She looked to the rain and she smiled, letting it soak her. And she began to spin, round and round, as if trying to make herself dizzy. Rain ran over her entire body and she smiled. And as he watched her, he smiled as well.

**A/N: love it? Hate it? Tell me! All reviews get a reply, and a cookie. **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thank you with sincerity to all my reviewers. Particular reverence goes to ****babyscardinal**** for the in depth review left, which truly brightened my day.**

**Chapter 9. **

Rolling over in bed, Hermione could feel the golden silk sheets moving around her, making her feel like she was wrapped in honey. She was warm and content, and hadn't felt like this in such a long time. The sunshine was streaming in through her window-wall, and her eyes gradually creaked open. Stretching out luxuriously she gazed out of the wall. Golden light streamed in, the sun peaking over the top of the lake, trees and flowers still moist in the early morning dew. It was one thing having an enchanted ceiling, quite another to be able to gaze at the beauty of the real thing. She could see her wet clothes from the night before hanging up on her wardrobe, having been dried and cleaned by the house elves. Looking at her calendar she sighed.6 days until students returned. 6 days to get back to normal. This would begin, she decided, with breakfast. Yes, she was still alone. But it was...ok.

On her way to breakfast, she cast a glance at her state canvass. Although still centrally black, the edges were a light sky blue – absent still of actual images, but getting there, she thought happily. There were many things she needed to do today. Breakfast, pensive, then she needed to write letters to Harry and Ginny to explain. She wanted to write to Ron- to know that he was ok- but the thought of it made her heart ache.

***

Severus Snape was currently situated in the great hall, watching the post owls circle the ceiling. He was the only person in the majestic hall, and as usual, received no post. But two owls did descend to the table next to him, waiting patiently for the recipient of the letters to arrive and free them of their burden. Severus glanced at the names on the envelopes – two sets of messy scrawl, both addressed to Hermione. Recognising Mr Weasley's handwriting, he scowled. He wasn't sure why. He knew full well it wasn't his business what happened to her, and yet he couldn't help feeling protective. He had carried Hermione, unconscious, in his own two arms. He had lifted her from the floor where she had laid for god knows how long in her own blood. He had carried her out, protecting her from the harm she had come to expect; and now the scum had the audacity to be writing to her. And, presumably Potter, if the other set of handwriting was anything to go by. Well it had only been a week until he had wondered where his friend had gone. It would not do at all.

When Hermione arrived at the hall 20 minutes later, she could see that she had post. She also saw Severus, eating cornflakes. It seemed odd and she almost chuckled. She could not for the life of her imagine the formidable ruler of the potions lab... eating cornflakes. It just seemed too normal. He seemed to watch her approach the table, and then when he noticed her laugh, scowled at her. That was more like it.

Severus had indeed watched her has she approached the table. Bouncy, luminous hair reflecting the morning light, her irritatingly pretty laugh piercing the air. That was why he had scowled. She had noticed him looking. But how could he not? He was looking at her strength, at the spirit that poured from her, refusing to be beaten.

As Hermione took her seat, she realised that there was a letter in front of her. Recognising the handwriting immediately, she slipped it into her pocket, and then reached forward for a slice of toast, feeling hungry for the first time in what felt like forever. Snape merely smirked at her and continued to eat. It was stupid really, to be so protective of the lovely Gryffindor. But she was lovely.

Ignoring the smirk, Hermione paid attention to her toast. Silly old bat-man of the potions lab.

***

Later that day, Hermione returned to her rooms and pulled out Harry's letter, now slightly crumpled.

_Dear Hermione_

_How are you? Ron visited yesterday...he said you'd left for Hogwarts. It seems odd that you'd leave without saying goodbye...I hope you're ok. _

_I don't think Ron's coping well without you. I'm sorry if this sounds mean but Ginny and I both agree he needs you, and you know it. So how could you take a job away from him? Honestly Herm, it's not like you to be selfish. Please come back. You don't know how much it's hurting him to be away from you. I hope the job is worth it. _

_With love,_

_Harry and Ginny. _

It was an unusually short letter. Usually she had rolls of parchment about how beautiful Ginny and the children were. Clearly, Ron had been saying things. She sighed. If only they knew how much Ron really needed their help. She knew she couldn't help herself-it would be too painful for both of them. Maybe she could write to Harry or one of the Weasleys for help. But would they believe her? She hoped so. She couldn't, just couldn't bring herself to hate the man she had almost had a child with. Maybe if he got help she could one day go back to him. She didn't know. Just didn't know.

She also didn't know how to reply to the letter. So she didn't. How could she possibly explain.

***

One of the other things that Hermione needed to do that day was to fill her pensive. This was going to be the hardest. In order to remove her memories of what happened, she would need to watch them again as they were being removed. Picking up the stone basin, she carried it down to the lake. She needed to be somewhere peaceful for this.

***

Severus was in his office. He watched as the flames in the fireplace curled around the edges of the letter, gradually turning the messy scrawl on the parchment to nothing more than dust floating through the air. It was odd that he was so protective. But he knew that he had done the right thing. This was not a signal that he cared for her. He wasn't helping her at all, he just thought that the situation was already bad enough for the Gryffindor girl without that numbskull making matters worse.

Rising from his seat in front of the fire, he swept his cloak around his shoulders and left the room. It was a beautiful night and he planned on an excursion to the forbidden forest to collect some deadly nightshade – prices were extortionate these days, and he could easily replenish his personal stock from the forest.

Striding across the fields, he watched the moonlight reflect upon the inky surface of the lake. He was in a somewhat humanitarian mood- so far today, nothing had bothered him, and he had made several leaps in his research. Humming a tune to himself, he continued to walk around the lake, basking in the moonlit glow of the water. It came as quite a surprise when his knees collided with something soft- which, of course, turned out to he Miss Granger's face. It was such a surprise that he fell over. Of course that may have been a result of falling over her.

Sitting up, he grumbled. He wanted to get a reaction from her, to make her sorry in the same way that his pupils were, but she hadn't seemed to notice. She was sat, watching her stone pensive, in near perfect silence. Shuffling closer, he tapped her on the shoulder but again remained ignored. Glancing at the silvery surface of the stone bowl, he found himself captivated by the memories on display.

He was watching a younger Hermionie, who looked not much older than she had when she had graduated. She was in a hospital. Watching a screen. You could hear the thumping heartbeat of an unborn child, and see the joy resonating from Hermione as she listened.

Snape turned back to the current Hermione. She wasn't crying or screaming, she just watched, with a sadness that tinged her eyes. Smiling weakly, she turned to look at him.

"I wanted to look at the happy times as well. I don't hate him Sir, I just wish things had been different."

Digesting this, Snape looked to his feet before replying.

"I am not your teacher anymore, I do not require the nametag of 'Sir'. May I ask what happened to the child?"

"I lost it, Severus."

"Did you look in lost and found?" He blurted suddenly, wanting to hit himself over the head as soon as he said it. He did not cope well with discussions of this nature.

She looked at him curiously for a moment, before uttering a strange, strangled laugh. Leaning back against the tree near to them, she smiled. The corners of his mouth almost twitched. It occurred to him that he was sat, extremely close to Miss Granger, on damp grass, making jokes. And it wasn't that bad.

"No, I didn't. Thanks for the idea."

"Anytime." He smirked.

**A/N: Hope you like it! Reviewers get a prize!**


	10. Chapter 10

**,A/N: Apologies for the late update, I went out dancing on Saturday and didn't get back until 6am then I had to work all day Sunday! Once again, apologies. **

**Chapter 10. **

Hermione stared at the parchment in anticipation. It was now the day of the welcoming back feast, and she had spent the week preparing lesson plans. As professor of Herbology, Minerva had asked her to also temporarily stand in for Neville as head of Hufflepuff house, which had meant she'd needed to prepare a start of year speech for them as well, as each head of house did.

Of course, being the perfectionist that she was, she had done all these things. She was thoroughly prepared for the return of the students. But she was not prepared to write the letters that she knew she needed to. During the week she had received another letter from Harry, Ron had sent another two; although she had only received one.

Ron was not happy about her absence of reply. He had been as nice as could be in those letters- hoping to make her think she had changed enough that she'd want to return. His most recent letter –on a day when Severus had had breakfast in his private rooms- was starting to show the cracks.

_Dear Hermione_

_I'm starting to lose a bit of patience, and you know what happens then. I wrote to you twice, being lovely, but it seems you don't want to know. _

_I just want you to come home. You know it is where you belong- this career stuff isn't for you. You need to come home and bear my children. I've stopped drinking like you always wanted. I don't want to have to come and get you. You're still my Fiancé. _

_Ron. _

_Hermione- _

_I thought Ginny and I were your friends? I don't want to make it seem like we're taking sides but you're ignoring us, and Ron says you're ignoring him as well. What's going on? Please, just let us know you're ok. _

_Love, Harry. _

Hermione was both confused and apprehensive. She hadn't been ignoring Ron- this was the first letter she had received from him, and yet he seemed rather angry. As for Harry, yes fair enough she had ignored his letters. But Hogwarts was her new start... she was beginning to relax here. Beginning to enjoy being herself. She didn't want to get involved again with the world that made her timid and dependant. She didn't even know how she'd gotten out of the house- she just woke up at Hogwarts. But it seemed different. For one thing, since she arrived, Severus Snape had been... not nice. Nice wasn't the word. But civil. It was odd. She hoped it wasn't out of pity- her brused pride would not be able to cope if she'd thought Severus knew what had happened to her. Well of course he knew. He had healed her. But he did not know, despite her new appearance of strength, she was still broken inside.

She looked again at the parchment. She had 3 important letters to write, and she didn't know where to begin.

***

Ron laid on his sofa, staring at the ceiling. Well staring wasn't the right word. It was phasing in and out of focus. He didn't feel good- elements of a hangover were starting to kick in. This meant that he needed to start drinking again. Being drunk constantly generally prevented the presence of hangovers.

He tried to get off the sofa, which resulted in him rolling off and landing on the floor. With a thump. Grumbling, he got slowly to his feet and stumbled into the kitchen. It wasn't just his head that hurt. His heart hurt- the main reason he hated being sober. His brother, his friends and his child had left. Now Hermione had left too. Ron was past sobbing, but had he had the emotional capacity, he would have sat on the floor there and then and wept. But what was the point? No one would hear him cry.

Gradually, he became aware of a tapping on the window. It looked like one of the Hogwarts owls, and he rushed to open the window. Maybe his fiancée was begging to get back with him, and he wouldn't have to be so alone after all.

_Ronald,_

_I am sorry that you feel I have been ignoring you. I only received one letter from you, which I am responding to now. _

('What a liar!' Ron thought. 'She knows full well that I wrote to her and how nice I was')

_And yes Ronald. I do know what happens when you lose your patience. That's why I'm not there with you anymore. We have been though so much together, I don't want to suffer at your hands too. Which is why I am sending you my engagement ring. _

_I don't think you're a bad person. I think you may just have done bad things because I know you hurt inside. You need help. But it cannot come from me. Because I loved you .I loved you too much to notice how bad it was. _

_I tried so hard and so long to save you Ronald. But you hurt me. And I am too tired to try any more. _

_I'm Sorry. _

_Hermione. _

Ron turned the golden ring over in his hands. His brother, his friends, his child. And now his fiancée. For the first time since the end of the war, he cried.

***

Harry stood and watched his wife-to-be. She was laid on the floor- one twin laid across her stomach, the other cuddling up to her arm. He had just retuned from work, and all three were laid on the floor, sleeping. Not wanting to disturb them, he gently walked past them into the kitchen, planning on cooking a meal for them when they awoke.

Similarly to his best friend, his plans were disrupted when he noticed a school owl sat on his kitchen counter, having flown in through the window. Removing the letter from its foot, he gently stroked the owl's feathers, before it took off through the window again.

_Dear Harry_

_I'm so so sorry I haven't written to you. I just didn't know how to begin. _

_I know you think I've deserted Ron, but this honestly isn't the case. I know you have no reason to believe me, but I'd love the chance to explain. Please... if you can, I'd like to meet you in Hogsmeade this weekend to explain._

_I don't think that I will ever go back to Ron. Just please don't hate me until you've heard my side of it. _

_Hermione. _

Harry was speechless. Hermione was leaving Ron? Where had this come from? As far as he knew, the two had still been as in love now as the day Ron proposed, telling her she was his soulmate and he wanted to be with her forever. Pulling his cloak back on, he headed for the fireplace. He needed to see Ron. If Ron was as surprised as he was, he would be devastated.

But Harry was not prepared for the sight that met him when he arrived at Ron's house. It was true that he hadn't been there in a matter of months, but even so. The air itself smelled stale. Bottles and broken glass were strewn across the floor. Smashed furniture was strewn across the room. It looked the scene of some hideous battle- there was even blood on the carpet.

He could hear sounds of stifled sobbing, and ran towards the kitchen. His best friend of many years was sat, hunched over the table, the letter from Hermione crumpled in his hands. Harry sat down next to Ron, not entirely sure what to do. Ron, becoming aware of the presence of another body next to him, looked up through bleary eyes. He couldn't speak.

Harry embraced his best friend in a hug. How could Hermione do this?

***

Mister and Mrs Weasley were sat leisurely on the sofa, listening to the radio in each others arms. Since the war had ended, they had no more money troubles, having been awarded large sums of money from the Ministry for their work in the order. They still lived in The Burrow- they loved that house. Their days were now spent playing with their beloved grandchildren, tinkering with muggle artefacts and cooking. Since the war had ended, their marriage was stronger than ever- they were very much in love. Losing a son reminded them how lucky they were to have one another.

They too received a school owl that day.

_Dear Mr and Mrs Weasley_

_How have you been? We have not spoken in a while. I wished to ask you a favour regarding Ron, and was wondering if you would consent to meeting me in Hogsmeade this weekend to discuss it further._

_I think that he still suffers greatly from the war, and I don't think that I have been entirely successful trying to help him. _

_Love Hermione. _

It was a short letter, true. Designed not to panic the Weasleys, who were not aware of Hermione and Ron's situation in the same way that Harry was. Hermione desperately hoped that they would meet her. She knew in her heart that truly the best people to help Ron would be his family, even if they did not like her for leaving him. Some sacrifices had to be made.

***

Severus Snape made his way to the feast. So began another year of point taking, and living up to his nickname of the Grumpy Git of the Dungeons. How charming. He too had to make a speech to his house at the end of the night, though unlike his colleague Professor Granger, he usually winged it. Taking his seat at the staff table, he glanced at the two people sat on either side, and glared. Minerva to one side, Granger to the other. That was ok. He could just scowl at them both the whole night, knowing that neither would be affected, and be on his way back to the dungeons with the Slytherins.

It was odd though. Throughout the whole night, he glared, as he had been used to doing. Minerva was of course unaffected, but Granger seemed unusually subdued. Not really eating, avoiding his (and anyone else's) gaze. She would usually smile regardless and make mind-numbing small talk. Snape would have usually hated this, but he knew she was broken as he was. Not that he would ever tell her that, but it was nice to have someone who didn't mind talking to him. No one else had ever made the effort. Minerva tolerated him, everyone else abhorred him. With the exception of the unknown person who had saved him from Nagini, Hermione was the only person who had ever shown him any compassion. And he would never admit it, but it was surprisingly nice.

So he spent the feast observing this unusually quiet girl. True, he was the grumpy Git of the dungeons. But he had some Gryffindor traits. When he knew someone was broken he would protect them. Nothing personal. Soon enough, it was over. Time to talk to his house. Making his way to the Slytherin common room, he planted his signature sneer back on his face. The dungeons were so cold. His students so...cold. This year things would be different.

"Slytherins!" He called, standing in front of the fireplace in the common room.

"You should all be proud. You have been chosen for the greatest house of Hogwarts- the house that represents cunning, wit and charm. In previous years, Slytherins have believed themselves to be above the other members of this school. No more. You are all students here. Be proud of your house, be proud of your heritage. But do not take it as a sign that you are better than someone else. There are amazing people in the word, and you are all more alike than you think. Be proud of who you are, and be proud of others too. Those of you who still believe in the hierarchy of blood lines, may be in for a shock this year. For you no longer carry favours with me. You have been warned."

With that, the potions master swept from the dungeon, leaving a very confused batch of Slytherins behind. He usually gave them the same old drones about use all your wit and cunning to best yourself. What had changed?

Upstairs, in the warm and friendly atmosphere of the Hufflepuff common room, Hermione was making her own speech.

"Firstly, welcome. I know you all miss Professor Longbottom, but for the meantime I will be standing in. And I would like to say I am so proud of you all. You have all shown that you possess some of the best traits known to humans- loyalty, an ability love, the ability to be true to yourselves. When others get downcast you all keep shining through. Don't let others look down on you for your house or your blood. Rise above the pettiness, for we know that you are truly good people. In the aftermath of the war, the world has never needed more people like you. People to rebuild, to love, to bring joy to society. Which you are all capable of. I am so proud to lead this house for the short period of time that Professor Longbottom is absent, and please know that you can come to me for anything." As she smiled at them, her students started clapping.

It was a new year, a new beginning. She was determined not to let her heart be tainted by Ronald.

**A/N: Hope you like! All reviewers get a personal response, so any comments are welcome.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: And Abraham did begat Isaac and Isaac did begat Jacob, and Jacob was gay so that was the end of that. **

**Chapter 11. **

Since Harry Potter had discovered the unfortunate state of his friend's house, not to mention the state of his friend, he had decided to spend his days there, helping however he could. The first thing he had done had been to tidy the house. Removing the blood from the carpets had been an odd task, and no matter how Harry approached it, Ron would not explain how it had come to be there. Harry had at least managed to convince Ron to eat a few meagre meals, noticing how thin he had gotten. In the two days since Harry had been there, Ron had not touched a drop of alcohol. This was mainly because Harry had tipped it all down the drain, and Ron had neither the energy nor the desire to leave the house to collect more.

Despite Harry spending two days with his friend, he still did not have as clear a grasp of the situation as he thought he had. As Harry understood the situation, Ron and Hermione had clearly had an argument, and Hermione had left. As a result, Ron had clearly started drinking and smashing things. So in Harry's mind, Hermione was entirely to blame for the state of Ron. And that made him angry.

He had agreed to meet Hermione that weekend, so that she could explain her actions. Being as fiercely loyal as Harry was, he could not see what possible reason she had for leaving, and hoped to persuade her to return. Harry had of course informed Ron that he would be meeting her- but the information barely seemed to register. Ron had been wondering around in a somewhat dazed state- he almost seemed to have been obliviated. Harry suspected it was an effect of the alcohol. In truth it was a mixture of that and heart-breaking grief.

Ron no longer cared. He no longer cared that he had hurt his fiancée. At first, upon regaining his soberness, he had felt guilty. But then she had left. And now her pain no longer mattered – she needed to be here. With him.

***

Hermione stared at herself in the full length mirror. Her first day of being a teacher seemed a daunting prospect. Picking out navy blue robes, she began to dress. Hair tied back in a tight bun. Well she certainly looked like a teacher. She had meticulously planned her lessons, but was still nervous. It was a little comfort to her that for her first week of teaching she would have a mentor in each lesson- whichever teacher had a free period at the time of her lesson would observe her, and hopefully give her constructive comments after the students had left.

Glancing down at her timetable, she knew who her first mentor would be. She would have Severus for the first double period, then Fillius Flitwick for the rest of the day. The prospect of sarcastic comments and steely glares didn't do much for her nerves, even if he had been civil recently.

Being well and truly put off her breakfast, she made her way to the greenhouses, deciding to go early and prepare for her first class. First year Hufflepuff and Gryffindors. She intended the class to be an introduction to Herbology- why it was important, the kind of things the students could expect to learn and so on. The real work would begin in lesson two.

As the students entered, Professor Snape followed them. He Had been hoping to greet Miss Granger at breakfast and enquire about her lesson plan, but she had not appeared. Disgruntled, he had been forced to accompany the students to the greenhouses, and merely greeted Hermione with a curt nod as he took his place at the back of the room, which she returned. He could tell that she was nervous. But as far as he was concerned, it wasn't the teaching she needed to be worried about; he knew she would be a natural. He had had the...privilege of listening to his students' gossip during the commute, and knew that they were all intensely curious about their new professor.

Having known Hermione Granger since she was 11, Severus tended to forget that she was a famous war hero. Internationally known as the smartest witch to grace the wizarding world for generations, known to be the brave, bold and courageous girl... woman who aided Voldemort's defeat, desired by many men. She was indeed a curious object, even to those who had known her for many years.

Turning away from his rambling thoughts, Severus returned his focus to the young woman who was about to begin her first class.

"Good morning." She smiled at her students, determined to show her competency. She had the toughest professor at Hogwarts judging her and she was determined not to mess up.

The students watched her intensely, fidgeting in their seats.

"In today's class we shall be going through a brief summary of what Herbology is, what you can expect to learn, and how Herbology can be useful to your futures. I know that many of you were expecting to be tutored by Professor Longbottom, but I assure you that I shall do my best to fill his shoes, and he shall be back before too long. Unfortunately you then have to put up with me as your charms professor," she grinned at the class "So do not assume I will go easy on you."

Silence.

"Do any of you have any questions so far?" She looked out at her class, hoping that there would be at least a few students keen to learn.

Several students raised their hands, and Hermione blushed slightly in pleasure. It was going well. Pointing to one of the students, she indicated to him to say his name, and then address her with the question.

"Robert Goodman, Professor Granger. Why are you a professor when you were offered so many jobs after the war?" The poor boy looked almost afraid to ask the question, as if she would hex him.

Hermione sighed. She should have known this would happen. It was not so bad with the older students- they were vaguely familiar with her, and knew of her love of learning. But to the younger students who had never met her before, all they had seen of her was the rubbish that the tabloids had printed.

"Does anyone have any questions about Herbology?" She asked, looking hopeful. Severus almost snorted. How naive she was. Then again, he would also be interested to hear her answers. She could have gone on to true greatness, having achieved the highest NEWT scores on record. And yet she was a professor.

"Well I can see we are going to have to get this out of the way. Any questions you would like to ask, ask me now, for you will not be receiving this opportunity again- after today your questions will be purely academically related or they will not be receiving an answer." Her gaze was stern, but this did not stop almost every student raising his or her hand.

Sighing, Hermione patiently listened to all the questions. They all ran along the same lines- why are you a professor; you're so brave, what was Voldemort like, will you show us some spells that you used, and so on. She was even asked if she was single! Professor Snape snorted at that, and catching his eye she glared at him, before turning her attention back to her class.

"Firstly, no I certainly will not show you the magic that was used to defeat Voldemort. I pray that eyes such as your own will never have to see that kind of magic for it is truly dark and devastating. With regards to the war, I am not the only brave person and deserve no individual credit. There were many people involved in the downfall of the Dark Lord, and I deserve no more credit than they do, so calling me brave will not gain you extra marks."

She paused, watching her student's reactions.

"Each and every one of you is brave and possesses valuable qualities, it is important to remember that. The reason I became a professor is because I believe that learning is one of the most important qualities in life. A teacher affects eternity; he can never tell where his influence stops. I would not be who I am now if it was not for some of the amazing teachers I had whilst I was at school; they truly shaped who I am now. One of the most noble, brave and intelligent men I know was a professor here." She stared pointedly at Severus. "And if I can in some way be a part of that then I shall be satisfied."

Stood with her arms folded at the front of the classroom, she appeared a formidable and stern figure- one eyebrow raised, an expression Severus was proud of. He smirked at her from across the room.

"Now, if we could return to Herbology, you only have five years before your OWLs..."

***

Harry had returned home. He loved his best friend dearly, but he had not seen his wife and children in three days. Ron was glad of the absence. He needed time to brood.

He was laid on his bed, clinging tightly to a pillow. It may have seemed odd to an outsider but Ron could still smell Hermione's coconut shampoo in those pillows, and he never wanted to let go.

His mind was drifting lazily through his memories.

He could remember how when Hermione had told him she was pregnant he had picked her up and spun her round and round, he was so happy. He had his perfect family – his fiancée, his baby, he would never have to be alone again.

He could remember her first scan – hearing his little boy's heartbeat, so small but so strong. Of course they didn't know it was a boy, but he was convinced. He remembered gripping Hermione's hand so tightly, telling her that he would always protect her and his son, until his dying day.

***

Hermione's mind was also on the past, though it could not be said that her brain was lazily drifting through her memories. She was trying to figure out how she would tell everyone the real reason she had left Ron. She planned on the pensive playing a major part, but some explanation would still be required.

Unlike Ron, she didn't remember 'scenes'. She remembered tastes, textures, sounds and smells. One whiff of sausages at the staff table and her thoughts would immediately be back to when Ron had hit her with a frying pan for burning his breakfast. The sound of a car breaking, and she would immediately be transported back to that day.

That day when Ron had been drinking, and decided that they were going for a drive in the car. She had no choice in the matter. That day when the car had gone spinning through the air, Ron having been thrown through the air (not wearing a seatbelt). That day when Hermione had had to wait 5 hours to be cut from the car by muggle firemen. By the time she had been freed, Ron had gone. The blood between her legs indicating that her baby had left as well. Maybe it was for the best.

She sighed, wondering how she could possibly explain it all.

First she would be meeting with Mr and Mrs Weasley in the Three Broomsticks, then later Harry. It was a Hogsmeade weekend, but thankfully Hermione was not one of the four teachers required to be on duty. She didn't need the added complication of unruly students today.

Forty-five minutes later, Hermione entered the Three Broomsticks, to be greeted by the beaming faces of Molly and Arthur Weasley. A lump was already forming in her throat.

"Hermione dear how are you? Come sit, we got you a drink" Mrs Weasley passed Hermione butterbeer, and she weakly smiled in thanks.

"Thank you Mrs Weasley, and thank you both for coming. It's actually quite a serious issue.....and I don't quite know how to begin."

Mr Weasley observed Hermione over the table. He had a great deal of respect for the girl, and could see that something was troubling her. He placed his warm, worn hand over hers. His skin felt rough.

He smiled at her kindly. "Go on Hermione. We are here to listen after all and help however we can."

Hermione withdrew her hand and placed them both in her lap.

"I'm sorry to have to ask you....but I need your help. I just don't think I can help Ron anymore."

Mrs Weasley looked confused, whilst Mr Weasley waited patiently for her to explain.

"Since the war, Ron has suffered greatly with grief. I thought I could help him but... he drinks. A lot. And recently some things happened between us...which have meant that I can no longer go back to the house. I think he needs your help." She could see Mrs Weasley stiffen, and knew that her mind was recalling the Rita Skeeter articles from her fourth year.

"Before you judge me," She added quickly "I have brought with me a pensive, so that you can see what happened for yourself. I just don't know what to do anymore." Passing the pensive across the table to them, Arthur patted her arm sympathetically, whilst Molly all but glared at her.

Both turned towards the pensive. Hermione did not need to look into it to know exactly what memories they were seeing. She watched their expressions carefully, trying to block out the sound of faint screams coming from the bowl.

Mrs Weasley's face initially looked shocked, before turning impassive. Arthur's face softened and she could see a look of glazed sadness cover his eyes.

The images finally ended, and Hermione waited for their reactions. She did not expect the pensive to be launched at her, at for it to smash into the wall just behind her head.

"You little hussy" hissed Mrs Weasley, rising from the table and heading towards the exit of the pub. "How could you make up such brazen lies about my little boy! He would never hurt a fly! He loved you, and I welcomed you into the family because of it. But now I see that you are nothing more than a foul wench, determined to poison happy families like mine!" With that she stormed from the building, not even waiting for Arthur to follow.

He did not take such an extreme reaction.

"Oh you poor girl" he murmured, repairing her pensive before pulling her into a hug. "Thank you. I know this cannot be easy for you. I can see that you are right, Ron does need our help. And I shall try to convince Molly. She may bear a grudge," he hesitated, sensing her sobbing against his shoulder. He pushed her briefly away and looked into her eyes. "I promise you Hermione, you will always be like a daughter to me, regardless of your relationship with my son."

With one last hug, and the promise to owl her soon, he followed his wife from the pub, leaving three now cold butterbeers on the table. He was determined to help his son, he only hoped that someone would be there to help Hermione.

She should have expected it, she knew. But that didn't make it hurt less.

***

An hour later, Harry entered the Three Broomsticks to see Hermionie staring at three full drinks bottles, looking quite in a world of her own. He was angry with her but at that moment he did feel a pang of sympathy for his friend.

"Hermione." He said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. She jumped, but smiled weakly when she realised who it was.

"Harry," she smiled. He could tell she had been crying. "Sit down, I think I owe you an explanation."

Going through the same process that she had with the Weasleys, Hermione waited for a reaction. But there was not one. Harry did not shout or cry or even react at all.

"Harry?" she said in a small voice, hoping he understood. Hoping he would not abandon her as well.

Harry, for his part felt as if his world had been shattered. He had just seen his gentle best friend beating the woman he claimed to love, and no longer knew what to believe. He was jerked back to reality when Hermione gently placed a hand on his arm, and he hastily withdrew it.

"Don't" he choked, almost falling as he rose from the table. She looked up at him, hurt evident in her eyes. Without another word he left the pub, left the village. He needed to think. Was that really Hermione's blood on his best friend's carpet?

***

Severus was irked to say the least. He hated having to do Hogsmeade duty. Patrolling the damn village in the bitter autumn cold. Muttering to himself, he cast a quick glance in the window of Honeydukes, to see the usual hoards of students seeking a sugar high.

Trudging through the streets he could hear the distant shouts of students enjoying a day out, but he could hear other things too. Somewhere out of sight he could hear a rasping voice desperately calling Hermione's name. Increasing his pace, he rounded a corner, and was confronted with a very odd sight indeed.

An extremely bespectacled Ron was clutching tightly to Hermione's arm and waist and had her almost backed against a wall. Severus could see her recoiling at what he assumed was the smell of alcohol on his breath, and could see the look of fear in her eyes.

Anger flared inside him as the memory of healing her flashed before his eyes. From her talks to the class he had begun to realise that Hermione was an extremely gentle person- soft spoken and well mannered, nice even to those who did not deserve it.

And here she was, being pushed up against a rough, cold wall, pain evident from the expression on her face.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: (Lines you wouldn't find in a Harry Potter Book) Mr and Mrs Potter didn't want Harry, so they dreamt up an incredible cover story to get rid of him...**

**Chapter 12**

Anger rose from deep in his belly. How dare he touch her? The man had beaten Hermione to a pulp and here he was, brazenly in the middle of Hogsmeade, evidently trying to exercise his control over her again.

His desperate words could be heard above the howl of the wind, mixed in with Hermione's dry sobs. "How could you leave me?" Sob. Smack. "Come home." Sob. She shook her head. Another smack. Images of their lives together played through Hermione's mind. What had happened to the man she loved? Was it her fault?

She cried for all her failings. She cried for her failings as a wife, for her failings as a friend. If she had loved him more maybe this would not have happened. She had never been so alone.

Severus had had enough. He could no longer see Ron leaving hand shaped marks on Hermione's face; he could see his father pushing his mother up against a wall. Hermione's cries wrenched at his heart because he was transported so vividly back to his childhood; a childhood where he had been able to do nothing, could not help his own mother. Could not help himself. It was true that Ron was no cold hearted death eater as his father had been, but at that moment Severus did not care.

Just as Ron began to shake Hermione in desperation, banging her head against the wall, there was an explosion. With a small bang, Ron was thrown across the street, landing sprawling on his back. Standing over him was Severus Snape, a murderous expression in his black, glittering eyes. He knelt down next to Ron's head, making very sure that the words to come out of his mouth would be understood.

"You, Mister Weasley, will leave this village and not return. I am aware of the atrocious things you did to Miss Granger, and rest assured, if I ever find you within ten feet of her again, you will suffer the consequences." Leaning in closer he whispered his final sentence into Ron's ear. "And we both know I've picked up a few tricks in the past, thanks to my _colourful _past."

Severus wanted nothing more than to rip the boy limb from limb. He wanted to make him pay for everything Hermione had been through, and unfair as it was, he wanted to make Ron pay for everything he had been through as a child.

As the dark haze of anger lifted, Severus became aware of his surroundings. He was knelt over a boy who was pathetically begging for forgiveness, students beginning to congregate in the road having heard the explosion, and he could hear a quiet voice calling his name.

Leaving Ron to make his own way home, Severus rose, and looked around for Hermione. Seeing her slumped against the wall, a glazed look in her eyes and bruises forming around her neck, he sighed. She clearly wasn't as 'over this' as he had thought.

He walked over to her, careful not to startle the young woman. He didn't know how to offer physical comfort, but he was an expert in matters of a broken heart. He couldn't make it better, but he understood. He knew how intoxicating noble red-heads could be.

Making a quick decision, he pulled her up, and guided her into the Three Broomsticks. The pub had a floo connection to the school- many teachers favoured an after work tipple. Or several. The connection would take him to the communal area of the staff tower, and from there he could take her to her rooms and make her talk. Talking was clearly what she needed to do. And he couldn't help- he didn't want to. She was just a know-it-all. But a know-it-all who shared the same experiences as him. Maybe they could help each other. A stiff drink would be needed.

He was persuasive enough to persuade the Dark Lord of his opinions, but his arguments could not quell the voice in the back of the head that told him he wanted to help the young lady.

***

"Sit." He commanded, indicating a sofa in his drawing room.

"Miss Granger I can appreciate that you may not want to tell me what happened, however it would be useful if I knew. Can I please look through your mind so that I may be of help?"

Hermione looked up in shock.

"No you may not! If I want your help I am perfectly capable of telling you what is the matter, thank you very much!" She huffed, and Severus sighed.

"Merely trying to help, Miss Granger."

"Hermione."

"Excuse me?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

"My name. It is Hermione. And I know that you are only trying to help Severus, I apologise." She sighed, looking at the floor. He gave a gracious nod and sat down next to her, waiting for her to continue, as he knew she would.

"It's just that I cannot shake the feeling that I should 'suck it up', so to speak." She looked across at him. "Just get on with life."

Selecting his words carefully, Severus took his time replying. "You are required for the purposes of this job, to appear strong. However, _Hermionie, _there is nothing wrong with feeling pain and sadness. Those emotions let you know that you are human. You do not want to end up like me."

Pouring them both a drink, Severus downed his in one.

"What do you mean Severus?"

He sighed. If he expected her to be honest with him, he supposed he should be honest back.

"I have been through similar experiences to your ordeal with Mr Weasley. The route that I took to deal with it was to shut myself off, to pretend I was fine. And after a long time, you forget that you are pretending, and you cease to be affected by anything. You become cold to the world. Being true to your Gryffindor colours means having the bravery to explore your emotions, however painful that may be." Looking across at her, he could see that she was studying him intensely. He scowled.

"I think it's different though Severus. Ron hitting me broke my heart."

"As did my father. A father is supposed to protect and cherish you. There is more than one way to be broken hearted Hermione." She leant back into the sofa, nursing her drink.

"Severus, have you ever had your heart broken by a woman?" She blushed slightly, knowing she may have overstepped the line. The potions master had never been known to reveal personal information about himself; she had no idea why she had asked. Well, that wasn't true exactly. She wanted to know that someone else knew how truly alone she felt, and to know that it would get better.

"Yes." He answered in a clipped tone, downing another drink. Refusing to look at her. True she looked nothing like Lilly, but her spirit... so stubborn. So strong.

"Tell me about it." She said gently, placing her hand on his arm. He wanted to shrug her away, but he could see into the recesses of her mind. One of the advantages of 'mind reading' was that even when he did not try, he could feel the emotions of others around him. He could tell that she needed the contact. Leaning back into the sofa as well, Severus began to tell the first person he had ever willingly told, about his love for Lilly Evans.

And she listened.

"...she was a crimson and golden angel Hermione, she honestly was. And it hurt me so much that I could not be with her due to stupid house rivalry. Thanks to blood lines, and thanks to my father. Everything that I did afterwards was to protect her; I did not want her to be in the clutches of the Dark Lord. I gave everything for her and my heart still cracked. It remains cracked to this day." Severus was sadly gazing into the fire, barely even aware of the fact that Hermione's hand was still on his arm.

This was a new side to the potions master that she had never seen. He was just as broken as she was. And she was determined to help him. It occurred to her that she had never seen him laugh.

Sitting in silence a few more minutes, Severus turned to Hermione.

"What I don't understand, is why you put up with Mr Weasley doing that to you?"

"I suppose I never realised how bad it was. There were good times too. And I guess I thought he was right to do what he did, I could have been a better girlfriend. Could have helped him more."

Both were surprised that the other was being so open. The presence of alcohol in their systems had significantly contributed.

Severus stared piercingly into the golden brown eyes of the Gryffindor. He wanted to reach out and stroke her cheek, though he could not comprehend why on earth he would want to do such a thing. Instead he placed his hand over hers and squeezed.

"Hermione, no one deserves what you and I have been through. We have both been beaten and broken, and we have both lost people we love. Things can get better. Please bear in mind that when I am cold to you and to others, when I smirk and sneer, it is my way of blocking out emotion. I don't want to be hurt again. But I don't want my coldness to hurt you either."

Hermione looked down and his hand, currently squeezing hers. His fingers were long and graceful, his skin rough and worn. Years of hard work and sacrifice, sacrifice no one had appreciated.

"Why are you so nice to me Severus?"

"Ah well that's the problem isn't it Hermionie. You're never going to be able to see past the silver and green."

**A/N: Not entirely happy with this, but let me know what you think ******


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Thanks to all my amazing reviewers. This story is about to get interesting. **

**I'm afraid to love afraid to love so fast, because every time I fall in love it never seems to last.**

**Chapter 13. **

Hangovers. Urgh.

Too many shots with Hermione last night, clearly. The Gryffindor girl had eventually let for her rooms well past curfew, and Severus only hoped that no students had seen their Herbology professor wandering the corridors in a less than sober state.

Though of course, that would have been preferable to how some students would see her in _The Daily Prophet _the next day.

Easing herself into her chair at the staff table, Hermione winced. Her head hurt. And she wasn't yet sure if the drinks were going to be worth it. True, Severus had opened up to her last night – but no doubt he would now ignore her for the rest of the week to make up for it. But it was OK. She expected it. As he had said, it was just his way to make sure he didn't get hurt.

Confirming her train of thought, Severus scowled at her as he sat down. Smirking into her cornflakes, Hermione continued to eat. She knew it was too good to last.

As the post owls swooped into the great hall, Hermione was confused to see that she had morepost than usual. Rather a lot more. Her usual order of the _Daily Prophet_ – most of the staff read that. But she also had several letters, and she only recognised the handwriting on a few.

Most of the staff and students were now looking at her- the staff table was littered with owls, all waiting to deliver to 'Miss Granger' . Fifteen minutes later, when all the letters were detached from the owls, and sorted into organised piles (this was Hermione after all), she began to read.

_Dear Miss Granger_

_I saw the recent article in the 'Prophet' and wanted to express my deepest sympathies. If you ever wish to replace Mr Weasley, look no further than my door._

_Sincerely, _

_Christopher Bell. _

Included in the letter was a photograph, of a not all together fully dressed Mr Bell.

"Oh good lord." Hermione muttered, blushing crimson, as Severus who had been reading over her shoulder, snorted. "Incendio". That only left Merlin knew how many more to leaf through. But first, time to look at the newspaper. Something had to have happened- maybe Ron had gone to the tabloids to guilt trip her?

Gasping, she almost dropped the paper into the soggy dregs of her cereal. Spread across the front page of the newspaper was a picture of her and Ron in Hogsmeade the day before. _**Granger the victim of unspeakable abuses? Prophet reveals all on pages 3 and 4! **_She watched the picture in silence, all remaining letters forgotten. Ron was there, repeatedly slamming her head against the wall. She didn't know weather to cry or laugh. She had just been starting to forget, and now here it was. A permanent reminder of how weak she was.

Well she wasn't going to act that way. Folding the paper neatly, she placed it next to her bowl. And continued to eat. Severus smirked and followed suit- the whole staff table had been watching the girl. Raised eyebrows and hidden smiles graced the faces of the faculty as they turned back to their respective breakfasts.

Though of course, the potions master could never resist playing devil's advocate, and was feeling the need to be particularly beastly to the girl after his emotional display the night before.

"Miss Granger are you not going to read your letters?" Hermione glared at him, and Minerva smacked him upside the head. Well he deserved it.

"I prefer, Professor, to focus upon more stable things rather than foolish flights of fancy by men who do not know me." Hermione haughtily replied, doing her best not to sulk.

"Such as?"

"Such as my research. I am looking to get a commission from the Ministry to fashion a variation on the standard time turner."

This caught Severus's attention. Never one to turn down an academic debate, the quarrels of previous minutes lay forgotten as he and Hermione discussed the ins and outs of time travel. They were both lucky it was a Sunday, as they were sat there for hours, long after everyone else had left.

"Precisely which bits were you planning on altering?" Severus inquired, a genuine interest in his eyes.

"Well that's the thing. Time is fixed or in flux. The past is fixed- changing it could be disastrous and alter people's memories, as it has already happened. Travelling to the future would be much less dangerous as generally it is in flux – it doesn't matter if we change it because it has not yet happened." Hermione flushed slightly- she had not yet had chance to discuss her theories with anyone other than her reflection.

"Interesting theory Miss Granger, but how would you propose to travel forwards when there are no fixed points to travel too?"

"That's the interesting bit. Even though future time is in flux, there will still be fixed points of time in an _individual person's _future. If I could learn to read minds as you can, to tap into people's thoughts, and if I could come up with an arithmantic equation for how to do so, I could incorporate it into the design."

"Meaning?"

"I could programme the time turner to tune in, to tune into significant points in an individual person's _future_, based on their thought and decision making process. It's just a matter of equations."

She looked quite pleased with herself, but Snape could spot a flaw.

"Miss Granger, do you actually know how to read minds?"

"Ah. Well. No."

He smirked, thinking.

"I could teach you. If you include me in the processes involved in your project. It does all seem quite interesting."

Grinning broadly she nodded. "That would be brilliant Professor, and it would certainly take my mind off other....matters."

Nodding, he looked deep in thought. Hermione cast a glance around the table- it was still littered with letters and the newspaper. With a swift flick of her wand, they all began to morph into paper planes. They rose from the table and Hermione watched as they swooped upon Mrs Norris, who had been sleeping in the corner, and chased her around the hall. The two professors shared a smirk.

***

Neville Longbottom smiled down at his wife. She looked beautiful in the crisp autumn air, holding their precious child close to her chest. He wrapped his arm around her, kissed her temple, and they continued their walk to Hogwarts. For Neville, it was time to check on his old friend Severus. Surprisingly, in his time as a Professor, Neville had gotten on well with Snape. Away from the pressure of the potions classroom Neville was no-where near as clumsy, and had also managed to obtain several rare ingredients for potions master, for which he was grateful enough to be civil to the boy. Luna had quite wanted to visit Hermione – to warn her about an infestation of Zeagles that were apparently staying in her aura.

Approaching the castle, the pair split up, with Neville heading for the dungeons. As per usual, he found the snarky potions master in his private labs, working on a batch of skele-grow for the hospital wing.

"If you come near my cauldron Longbottom you will be doing a months worth of detention, student or no." Severus grumbled, though without malice. It could almost be called a joke.

"Wouldn't dream of it Snape" Neville smiled. "Learnt my lesson in school thanks. How've things been going?"

"The usual." Snape replied, not looking up from his potion. He could tolerate being talked to when brewing, but would not look away. Neville was not offended; he was used to it.

"How's Hermione been managing my classes?"

"I'd imagine a baboon could manage your classes Longbottm; Herbology isn't exactly Ancient Runes now is it."

"Now now Severus, don't make me liken potions to cooking because we know where that will go."

"Quite." The potions master smirked. "She's managing fine as we knew she would. Would she not be the better person to ask?"

"Luna wanted to talk to her. Said she could help Hermione cleanse her aura or something."

"God help your offspring Longbottom- clumsy and away with the fairies." Neville openly laughed at this- he'd learnt a long time ago not to take Snape's comments to heart.

"How's Hermione coping with....you know."

"I'm assuming you saw the _Prophet _this morning then." Severus cocked one eyebrow and sighed. Why was he the one dealing with the girl's problems?

"Me and the rest of the wizarding world. Quite a shock, I'll be honest. Everyone is quite worried." Snape flared his nostrils, his level of annoyance rising.

"She is fine here thank you, receiving all the help she needs."

"How? From you? We all know she wouldn't get past your walls if she had a sledgehammer, you're so closed off." Neville snorted. A second later, as the atmosphere in the room changed, he wished he hadn't. He could tell he'd gone too far.

"Out. Now." Chopping his lacewing flies with particular vigour, Severus did not see Neville quietly slip from the room, a sheepish expression on his face.

***

Luna waited patiently by Hermione's status painting- today an odd painting. It was a grey head with no features at all, just incredibly smudged. The head was being held in a pair of hands, as if in despair, but it was impossible to read because you could not see it's face.

Eventually Hermione became aware of the fact that someone was standing outside her portrait, and opened up to see Luna standing there with a baby. Engulfing her in a hug, Hermione smiled broadly and brought her in. Luna took a seat on one of the chocolate brown sofas, while Hermione got drinks. Whilst waiting for the kettle to boil, Hermione watched Luna and the child. They looked so happy. Luna's golden hair cascaded over her shoulders and reflected the light so well it almost made her look like she had a halo. Hermione was struck by the sudden thought that there was probably no one more innocent and pure than the two people sat in front of her.

Smiling gently, she sat down and passed Luna a mug of tea. "You two look so innocent," she exclaimed as Luna took it from her and grinned.

"There is nothing more innocent than a child's soul Herm, you know that."

"Oh Luna please don't tell me you believe all that."

"Of course I do! Hermione without a soul a person is an empty shell, devoid of emotion. You cannot confine personality to an equation; you cannot classify emotion with words. What is that if not a soul?" Passion blazed in Luna's deep blue eyes, she had pure belief in what she was saying.

"Personality is a result of the subconscious Luna, a result of everything that has happened to us in our lives." Hermione scoffed, taking a sip from her mug.

"That's not true." Luna chided gently, "If it was you'd be like Professor Snape." Hermione coughed and spluttered, choking on her tea.

"Excuse me?"

"He's broken as well. You both are, I've seen your auras. You're fragmented people, and the reason you act differently is because of your auras not your experiences. If it was your experiences you'd act the same because you've been through the same."

"What rubbish."

"Mock all you like Hermione. You have complimentary, kindred spirits. You act differently and it compliments each other perfectly. Always have. Even in school. If I didn't believe in soul mates I don't think I could go on, I'd lose my belief in good in the world."

"I don't want to shatter your beliefs Luna, but I highly doubt Severus and I are 'kindred spirits'." She laughed, finding it highly amusing. "You almost sound like you should be teaching divination instead of that old bat." Laughing with her, Luna smiled mysteriously.

"I believe that two people are connected at the heart. And it doesn't matter what you do, or who you are, or where you live; there are no boundaries or barriers. If two people are destined to be together.. they will be."

Hermione said nothing and sipped her tea.

***

**A/N: Reviews greatly appreciated, will all get a personal response. PLEASE will someone tell me how to spell 'Legumens' or whatever it is that severus can do that is mind reading, I cannot for the life of me remember how to spell it!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers, you don't know how excited I am about this story! Pretty major stuff coming up soon! The song mentioned in "Underneath your clothes" by Shakira, youtube it it's an ace song and it seemed to fit. **

**Chapter 14. **

Ronald Weasley was sat on the edge of the bath, trailing his fingers in the water, watching the ripples. The water was cold – he'd ran himself a bath yesterday morning, and forgotten about it. He'd been distracted by all the owls. Most carried howlers, though he had no idea why. He hadn't bothered to listen to them, simply burning them before they had the chance to begin screaming.

Casting a glance around the bathroom, his eyes fell on Hermione's shower gel. Pulling the bottle towards him, he opened it up and sniffed. It smelled like her – like coconuts. He smiled at the memory- Hermione loved the smell of coconut. Her pillows, her hair, her shower gel, it all smelled like coconuts. It was pretty.

Ron poured the shower gel into the water, stirring it with his hand, and let the smell of coconuts fill the room. Sighing, he closed his eyes. With the smell of her close he could pretend she was here. He could pretend he was in a room full of people- Hermione was standing there with their little boy, George and Fred standing there together, Remus, Tonks, and many others. All smiling at him. And Hermione was singing her favourite song. _"Underneath your clothes, there's an endless story. There's the man I chose, there's my territory..."_

When Harry entered the bathroom fifteen minutes later, looking for Ron, he was still slumped against the wall mouthing the song, a glazed look in his eyes. Harry sighed. This was going to be hard.

"Ron." He called, waiting for his friend to realise he was there. As Ron looked up, Harry began to grow frustrated. What did he have to do to get a reaction? Pulling Ron up, Harry guided him through the house and down to the kitchen.

"When was the last time you ate Ron?" Harry asked, trying to be patient. Ron just shrugged, and Harry had to massage the bridge of his nose to keep from losing his temper.

"Right. Toast and eggs it is then. While I'm making them you can start looking through those letters." As Harry bustled around the kitchen, Ron gazed across the table at the piles of letters that had been arriving for him over the last week. Pulling one towards him, he ripped the edge of the envelope, pulled the letter open and began to read.

"What the hell!" He exclaimed, looking to Harry for confirmation. "What's going on? People should love me I'm a war hero!"

"Yeah well so is Hermione mate." Harry sighed, sitting down and passing Ron his breakfast. When Ron just looked at him blankly, Harry thought he should probably explain.

"Last week there was a picture of you in the _Prophet." _

"So?"

"A picture of you when you were in Hogsmeade."

"Oh." A look of comprehension began to creep over Ron's face, and he at least had the good grace to look ashamed.

"Sorry Harry."

"It's not really me you should be sorry to is it?" Ron shook his head, looking at the floor.

There was silence for a few minutes- Ron not knowing what to say, Harry unsure if he wanted answers to his questions.

"Why?"

Again, Ron just shrugged. Harry had had enough.

"For God's sake Ron! You... hurt your fiancée! My friend! Why? Are you just that cruel that you don't care?"

"No of course I'm not. I just.... wanted her to stay. I didn't want to lose her too."

"And you thought that hurting her would make her stay? How thick are you?" Harry could not believe his ears. He knew Ron was still suffering from the war but he didn't know it was this bad.

"I know. I just, I didn't want to be alone."

"You realise you've probably lost her for good now."

"I know."

"And she was the one person who probably loved you enough to try and help."

"I know."

"And most of the wizarding world will probably now hate you for harming a national icon?"

"I know."

Harry dropped into a chair and exhaled heavily. He hated Ron for what he'd done....but he needed help.

"Was it worth it?"

"I just want her back Harry." Harry shook his head in disbelief.

"Ron look around you! Look in the mirror! You haven't washed in weeks, the house is filthy and you're permanently drunk. There is probably more alcohol in your veins than there is blood. Why would Hermione come back to this?"

Ron looked around in desperation, as if seeing it all for the first time.

"Help me." He begged, looking at Harry with pleading eyes.

"Why should I?"

"Because you're my friend. Please." Ron tried to reach out for Harry, but the dark haired boy pulled back.

"I will try Ron. Because of everything we've been through together. However there are some conditions."

Ron nodded enthusiastically, just glad that Harry wasn't abandoning him altogether.

"You are _never _to be left alone in a room with Ginny or my children. Never. And if I hear of you hurting anyone else, you will never be welcome in my house or anywhere near my family again. And no more drink." There was a deadly seriousness in Harry's eyes, and Ron knew better than to disagree.

"And one more. If Hermione decides she wants nothing more to do with you, you have to respect that and leave her alone. Understood?"

Ron nodded. It wouldn't be an issue. She'd come back to him. He knew it.

***

Severus led Hermione down to the dungeons. She'd suggested this weekend to begin working on the potion that was needed for the time turner; for it was not sand that ran through the hour glass, but a potion. The chemicals and elements within the potion were what caused the kinetic energy to enable a shift of matter through time and space. In order to create her version of the time turner Hermione would need to create a version of the potion that allowed the wearer to travel forwards instead of backwards, and who better to help than the estranged potions master of the dungeons?

Pulling out two benches, Severus indicated to Hermione which one she could use. He would also be brewing, familiarising the potion he was going to set his seventh years on Monday. Setting up his equipment and ingredients, he looked across the dungeon to see Hermione doing the same. He watched her remove her outer robes, leaving her able to move around easier as he had done. Attached to her belt was a small green pouch, which she also took off and laid on the table. It had strange white markings on it, and Severus had never seen one like it before.

Moving closer to her table, he gestured towards it. "What is that Miss Granger? I have never seen one like it before."

"It's pointless correcting you about my name isn't it?" She grinned at him, and he smirked back.

"Absolutely. But what is that?"

"Ah this. This is my magical first aid kit. I always have one on my person. You don't always get injured in convenient proximity to a hospital wing." She chuckled, passing it him to look at. He raised one eyebrow, but looked anyway. He wondered why no one had ever thought to make on up before – true there were spells to cure common ailments, but this kit could be useful. It had various things in it, such as a Bezoar, a little walnut like stone that cured most potions known to wizards. It also had dittany and self sticking bandages. Quite a useful little bag.

"Ingenious, Miss Granger. " He said, passing it back to her. "I'd imagine that will come in useful one day."

"Better to be prepared." She murmured, focussing on her ingredients.

"Quite." He replied, turning back to his own potion. "I meant to ask, have you been receiving many more love letters from wayward wizards this week?"

Hermione chuckled, and Severus was glad to see it. She didn't laugh enough in his opinion. But then he wasn't one to judge.

"No thankfully, mainly letters from people who know me now. Though they're still a bit overwhelming, I wish people would just let me get on with it."

"I'm sure they're just concerned Miss Granger. Though I, like you, prefer musings in solitude than being pressured to emote."

"Haha but Severus you forget I know your secret. If I ply you with enough alcohol you will talk to me."

"A secret I expect you to take to the grave, need I remind you."

"Yes, good point." Hermione glanced over at him, watching as his hands gracefully sliced his bats wings.

"Severus, how do you get away from it all? It seems like when you don't want to be found no one can, how do you do it?"

"Miss Granger, if I tell you, you will be able to find me; and that will defeat the point will it not?"

Hermione smirked. "But I am asking so that I can do the same, not so that I can find you. Watch your ego there."

"Fair enough." Severus smirked back. "It is a skill that most of the staff have. We are all animagus."

"Wow" Hermione gasped, considering the possibilities. "Yes that would certainly help. What is your form?" Images of bats and snakes ran through her head, and she smiled slightly, knowing Severus could see what she was thinking.

"No Miss Granger none of those but thank you for the compliment." Blinking, Severus was no longer there. Sat in his place was a raven, which flew and perched on Hermione's shoulder. Quite forgetting that it was in fact her potions master sat on her shoulder, she laughed and stroked the back of its head. To Severus it felt that Hermione was running her fingers through his hair and staring into his eyes- though of course she wasn't. It was disconcerting – it had been the longest time since anyone had done that.

Flying away from her, a second later Severus was again stood by his cauldron. Hermione chuckled- "That's amazing Severus. Why a raven?"

"You cannot choose your animal. The first time you know what you have become is when you see yourself in a mirror or someone tells you. The animal you become is the animal that best suits your soul." Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"So you believe in souls too? Luna was trying to tell me about them when she visited."

"Of course, or there would be no point in dementors." Hermione hadn't considered this, and was quiet for a while whilst she thought about it. There was a sudden movement from across the room, and Hermione looked up; but it was jut Severus loosening the cravat around his neck. Watching him, Hermione was able to clearly see the scars left from his battle with Nagini. "Well that explains why he always wears high collars I suppose." She thought, continuing with her work.

"Well if you are truly in need of a place to escape, Miss Granger, I can teach you the art of animagus. For someone with your brains it should not be hard."

"That would be brilliant Severus, thank you." She smiled, but Snape could tell there was something bothering her.

"What is it?" He asked, annoyed. "You look like you want to ask something."

"Well, I was just wondering Professor, I'm sorry if this is too forward, but....how did you escape Nagini?"

Sighing, Severus set down his knife and looked at her.

"I don't know Hermione. I can remember blacking out, a faint smell of something tropical, almost like coconuts. Someone said something to me but I don't remember what. And then nothing more. I woke up in the hospital wing."

Hermione looked like she wanted to continue questioning him, but Severus raised a hand.

"No more questions, please. Let's work."

Hermione raised her eyebrows and continued with her potion.

**A/N: Hope you like it, as usual all signed reviews get a personal response.**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Thanks to all my lovely reviewers! Was going to update yesterday but was working in a performance with the young people I work with and was knackered! **

**Hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter 15. **

Hermione and Snape walked leisurely around the lake, looking for somewhere to safely begin their animagus lessons. Snape would only be going through the theory with her today, however it was still nice to be outside. Well, she thought so anyway. Snape found the winters winds cold and bitter, whereas Hermione seemed to revel in them.

"Have you thought at all about what animal you would like to be Professor Granger?" He asked, as they headed over towards one of the benches near the lake. Hermione considered her answer for a moment; she didn't want to be too personal, or she knew Snape would just push her away again, and she was beginning to enjoy his friendship. He made no assumptions, and she knew that when he spoke to her it was because he wanted to and not because he was expected too.

"I'd quite like to be a fox." She mused, and Snape looked up in surprise.

"Why is that so shocking?" Hermione chuckled, enjoying the expression on his face.

"Foxes are mainly known to be sly and devious, Miss Granger, not exactly Gryffindor traits now are they?"

"People change professor, you know that. Besides, when have I ever not gotten something I wanted?" Hermione smirked, and Snape raised an eyebrow, surprised at how Slytherin she was becoming recently. Maybe he was tainting her.

"Fair point. I like foxes."

He looked deep in thought, and Hermione hesitated, but decided to ask anyway.

"Why is that Severus?" He looked down at her, and knew he couldn't lie. Well, he could, but he didn't want to. For some reason this infuriating girl made him want to talk.

"There was a fox that lived near my home. It was odd, because it always seemed to be around at times when I felt particularly lonely. And yet it always looked the same, never aged or had pups. Was always just a little dark fox- it seemed to suit me. And it was quite tame- almost as though it was not afraid of humans, as most are. It approached me several times, I even named it." He knew that Hermione would laugh, and she did, but it was not a mocking laugh, it was a laugh of pleasure, as though she found his story interesting.

"That's brilliant Sev," He frowned at the use of his name like that- he didn't like it. "What did you call it?"

"Sara. It was a girl fox. I don't know how I knew, it just seemed feminine." Hermione nodded in understanding- she knew of the comfort familiars could bring. She missed Crookshanks greatly at times.

"What kind of times was Sara around? You don't have to answer, I know I'm nosy."

"Yes, Professor Granger, you are nosy. There were six occasions particularly when I can remember the presence of the fox."

"And they were....." He scowled at her. Honestly, that girl was never satisfied with an answer.

"Twice on similar occasions to your situation with Mr Weasley." Hermione looked sympathetic, but he refused to look her in the eye. He didn't need her pity. "Once after I met Lilly. Once when I said something to her that I will always regret. Once when I agreed to be a spy and one other that I can't really remember."

Hermione looked interested, and tilted her head to one side.

"What did you call Lilly, Severus?"

He looked away and refused to answer.

"Severus I won't judge you. It's the past you can't change it now." She touched him gently on the arm, and he withdrew it suddenly and turned sharply to look at her.

"I called her a mudblood. I regretted it instantly, and I don't even know why I said it, but I did." Silently adding, 'Go on then, hate me' in his own head.

He hadn't wanted to tell her, for he knew she was sensitive about bloodlines. And he could understand why. Both she and Lilly had been incredibly intelligent witches, and both had received ridicule for not being pure blood. After the downfall of Voldemort, many had said that Hermione did not deserve her first order of Merlin as much as Harry and Ron, because she was muggle born and therefore they must've done all the work. He knew that in fact it was the other way round- if it was not for Hermione's intelligence, Voldemort would still be very much alive.

"It's ok Professor." Hermione said in her quiet voice. Snape rounded on her all at once.

"What gives you the right to say it's ok? It's not you I said it to is it!!"

"No Severus it's not. But if Lilly was as good a person as everyone says she is, she'll know you didn't mean it."

"And what if I did mean it? What if I got so fed up having her follow me around, just like you, and said it so that she would leave me alone?"

Hermione looked him in the eyes, and odd expression on her face.

"I still know you didn't mean it and only said it to get her to leave you alone. And if that is what you wish then I shall leave you as well- I wouldn't want to be accused of 'following you around'." With that she rose from the bench, and walked slowly away. There was no anger on her face – merely a sadness in her eyes. She knew Severus would come around, he was just still healing from the hurt he had been through. She was probably pestering him anyway, he'd probably prefer to be alone.

Severus watched her walk away, knowing that she was the first person for a very long time who had made the effort to get to know him. He did not get up to stop her.

***

Harry shook the snow off his cloak- autumn had rapidly changed to winter, and the streets of Hogsmeade were now cold and bitter as the wind howled through them. He was heading up to see Hermione- it had been a difficult week. Ron freely admitted what he had done to her, and that he needed help, but when they had tried to speak to his mother about it she refused to believe them. Harry supposed he could understand- he wouldn't like to think of any of his sons in that situation- but there was a point when she had to stop denying, and try to help Ron. And Hermione for that matter- no one had tried to help her.

He headed up the path towards the castle, and wondered how he was going to say what he needed too. Hermione had the comfort and support of the castle, Ron had no one. He was going to feel like such a sod.

Harry walked through the main Hogwarts enterance doors, and looked around. It hadn't changed. Student were walking past, and Harry was turning heads in all directions, whispers following him down the halls. Yes, it hadn't changed.

Harry stepped into the great hall, where he had arranged to meet Hermione, and she greeted him with a tentative smile. Since he had walked out on her in the three broomsticks, he hadn't had much contact with her, other than to arrange the meeting.

Harry smiled back, and after awkward greetings, they began the walk back to Hermione's rooms. "Hermione I'm really sorry I haven't been in touch." Harry gushed, looking at her. "It's just I've been trying to help Ron. He's so desperate to be better, he misses you."

Hermione looked at Harry sadly.

"I know he is, I really do. I just can't....I can't go back. And I can't be the one to help him, I've already tried."

"I know Hermione. I'm not asking you to go back. I'm trying to explain..."

"Explain what?"

"That Ron needs my help more at the moment. You have this castle, you have the teachers. You have your life together. He has nothing. He wonders around all day barely conscious, just talking about you." Hermione looked at him in a mixture of hurt and shock.

"It's ok Harry. I should have known you'd pick your best friend over me."

"I don't want to pick anyone, but he needs my help."

"So do I! You're saying that everything I went through, everything I showed you in that pensive, that means nothing to you?" Harry tried to grab her shoulders, but she shrugged him off.

"No Harry don't try it. Go. Just go. Go and stick by your best friend, even knowing that he could hurt the people you love. I bet you're not letting Ginny or the twins near him, but you don't care if I get hurt!"

Harry blushed, knowing it was true. He did care, but Ron needed him. He knew he was going to feel like a sod. He tried to touch her again, but she stepped back, leaving Harry touching thin air.

"I'm sorry Hermione." He said, looking at her one last time, before turning away and leaving the castle. He could see the hurt in her eyes, and had no desire to look at them for longer than he had to.

Hermione felt her shoulders begin to shake from the effort of holding her emotion in- and quickly made her way back to her rooms.

Her status portrait that day was a picture of a stone angel, bent forwards over a toumbstone, weeping. It struck Hermione as odd that in none of her pictures could you see the subject's face, and also that none of them moved. But before she had time to ponder it further, the portrait swung open and she climbed through to her rooms. Moving through her sitting room, she entered the bedroom. She loved that room.

It was currently filled with vases and vases of daisies, her favourite flower. Simple and pretty, not overstated. Her room looked like a floating cloud – shimmering tones of gold and silver, and her massive window-wall which gave her a spectacular view of the grounds.

Feeling drained, Hermione laid down on the bed and rolled onto her side, staring out of the wall. The sun was setting and the night was beginning to arrive- the sky was blood red over the horizon, and deep, midnight blue at the top. Letting the tears roll silently down her face, she hugged one of her pillows close to her. She just needed to be close to something, even if it was an object that could never reply. Inanimate objects were all she had. She continued to gaze at the sky as the tear trails on her face eventually dried, and her eyes gradually closed.

From a tree outside her window-wall, a raven watched her until he was sure she was asleep. He had seen Potter leaving the school, and even though he would not admit to caring, he'd still wanted to check that she was ok. He didn't want to give up the dream of being understood yet.

**A/N: Reviews always appreciated, all will get a personal reply. ******


	16. Chapter 16

**a/n: just a note to say, I apologise for the delay in updating, it's been one of those days where everything that could go wrong did go wrong, so I'm trying to resist the temptation to smash the laptop :D**

**On a lighter note, I noticed I've been getting a few anonymous reviews recently, so I'll put a reply to those at the end of the chapter. **

**Chapter 16. **

Hermione frowned as a large screech owl tapped at her window. She knew that was Severus's owl, and wondered why on earth he would be writing to her, especially in the evening when he had just seen her at dinner. Not that he'd spoken to her; in fact he'd stubbornly refused to look at her, even when asking if she'd pass the potatoes. That suited her fine. If he was going to ignore her then she would return the pleasure- if anything the past few months had proved she didn't need others in her life to get where she'd wanted. Minerva had been happy to explain to her the basics of how to be an animagus, and being the fast learner that she was she had immediately picked up the theory. All that was left now was to do the physical practising and apply for her licence once she knew what her form was.

Opening the window, the screech owl gracefully fluttered in and dropped a piece of parchment on her table, before perching on the back of the chair, apparently having been told to wait for a reply. Picking up the dry parchment, she read his spiky handwriting and snorted. The gall of the man. _Legilig_

_mens lesson tonight as usual. Dungeons, 8pm. _Sighing, she wrote a quick _yes _at the bottom of the sheet and gave it back to the owl. It was a step in the right direction at least.

Severus had been unsure about writing the note. He knew he had been out of line, telling her that she was following him around, but it served her right for being so nosy. He didn't want her getting too close to him- ultimately they'd both get hurt. In the end he'd settled for the offhand command for her to be in the dungeons- business as usual, nothing special. He had an academic interest in her potion, and for it to work she needed the skill of Legilimens. Nothing personal about that.

Hearing a tapping on his door, he looked up. Bang on eight o'clock. Letting her in, he tried not to scowl too much. She nodded curtly at him, and walked past. Her scent was odd, almost familiar in a way but he couldn't put his finger on where he knew it from.

Wordlessly, Hermione crossed the room and waited for him to acknowledge her. In order to have a lesson they needed to be on speaking terms, and she was sure she wasn't going to make the first move. He coughed.

"Miss Granger I apologise for my recent comments and conduct. I would enjoy helping you to obtain your academic goals if you would permit me to continue as we were before."

"Apology accepted Professor Snape." She replied, him raising an eyebrow at the use of his formal title. He hadn't realised how intimate a thing it had been when she was calling him 'Severus' until she stopped doing it. It almost seemed a shame.

"How is your potion doing?" He asked humbly, trying to show that he was sincere.

"It's fine thanks. I have correctly simulated the potion currently in standard time turners, I now just need to figure out which elements need changing to allow for future travel."

"Interesting. Would you let me observe some of your research one day? I might have some ideas."

"Of course. Shall we get on with the lesson?" She smiled, and Severus breathed a sigh of relief. He had not had many interactions with Hermione where she was cold, but he did not like them. He much preferred the busy-body over-enthusiastic female to the cold uninterested one.

"As you wish. As you know, the charm is 'Legilimens'. I shall first cast it on you, and I advise you to hide any thoughts or memories you do not wish me to see. Erect a mental wall. Once I see it I shall not cross. After this, you shall have the opportunity to do the same to me. When casting the spell, you need to think of the mind as a kind of filing system, and seek for the area you wish to observe. Focus on really delving into and reading the mind. At first you may not be able to control what you view, but this will come with practice. Understand?" Nodding nervously, Hermione tried to brace herself for the mental attack she knew was coming. Although she trusted Severus, she was still wary of what was to come.

She heard him whisper the charm, and all at once all her thoughts and memories were washing in front of her eyes. They were all pleasant- she had pushed her bad memories to the back of her mind. She watched as past Christmases played through her mind, her first day at Hogwarts, and then- blushing- her first kiss, first real boyfriend, summers at Victor's, 'experimenting'.

Severus raised an eyebrow and withdrew from her mind. He had seen more than he wanted to, but truthfully enjoyed making the girl squirm a bit.

"Your turn." He said quietly, waiting. Hermione was angry- he had looked places he had no right looking. She quickly made her decision- and cast her spell non-verbally. All of a sudden, all her senses were awash with angst. The loneliness was overwhelming. She could smell coconut, hear someone speaking, and was in a vaguely familiar room. It all seemed so.... known to her, and yet frustratingly just out of her mind's grasp, like a dream that floats away before you really wake up. She grasped at the memory, wanting to know more, she could hear the sounds of animals fighting and what sounded like a person in intense pain, and then suddenly it was no more. She was just floating through Severus's thoughts, and one particularly jumped out at her.

He did not know who had saved him, and he so wished he did. He just wanted to thank them, and to know why. For he did not understand why he had been worth saving; indeed he expected to die.

To Hermione this seemed to stretch on for a long time, but in actual fact the amount of time she spent in Severus's mind was less than a minute. As soon as he realized what was happening he had tried to expel her from his mind- but she was so strong, and not herself in control of what she was doing.

When both mentally returned to the room, they were shaking. Hermione was confused and looked like she wanted to ask questions, but Severus would not have it. Breathing deeply, he looked up at her.

"I think it best if we leave it for today Miss Granger." He said in a determinedly steady voice, guiding her towards the door. She nodded, but before she let turned to look at him. She had seen into his mind- she knew now that he was lonely like her. But for him it was worse- for he had a savior. But he did not know who it was. And she knew it must kill him to have someone willing to risk their life for him, but not willing to let him know they were there. It would have been so much comfort.

"Professor, I would just like to say.... whoever saved you....they gave you a second chance. You can be you now. Please don't regret being here."

With that, she left the Dungeons. Snape remained, shaking. What she had said was true, and yet... He had never seen that memory so clearly as when she was in his mind. Never before had he heard the snarling animals, smelt the familiar coconut so vividly and felt the pain so intensely. And all because she was in his mind.

But it didn't mean anything; she had just brought a new perspective, that was all. And that was all it would remain, he decided, taking his seat, and rubbing his temple. Familiar smells, recurring animals, loneliness. It didn't mean anything.

***

Hermione and Severus were both early risers – which meant that at least twice a week, they ended up having breakfast together. This was not something that they discussed, but it quickly became a pattern, and both parties eventually began to look forward to it. As the winter months grew colder, and the Great Hall eventually became decorated with holly and garish tinsel, their conversations would range from intellectual debates, to making fun of the love letters Hermione continued to receive. Hermione had learnt not to be too nosy, and Severus was less cold, feeling that the weather was compensating being cold enough for him. Neither would admit it, to themselves or to each other, but they had begun to like each others company and form an odd sort of friendship. When the rest of the school was present they would barely utter two words to each other, but on the cold frosty mornings of December, both knew that they needed the friendship.

Hermione's Legilimens lessons continued, as did their work on the potion, and for a while most things in the castle were quiet. Which made a change.

The first day after the students had returned home for the Christmas holidays, Severus and Hermione were sat alone in the great hall watching the snow-capped owls fly through the windows. Several for Hermione, containing letters as usual, and oddly, one for Severus. It was a graceful snowy owl, seeming at once majestic and innocent. The letter it carried in it's claws had an official looking wax seal on it, encrusted with a family crest that Severus at once recognised as his own. His heart thumped painfully in his chest- that was never good. The only member of his family he could stand was his mother, and he was notoriously protective of her after everything they'd been through together.

He was right- it wasn't good news. His Uncle, his mother's brother, had written to him. His mother had died. Natural causes apparently, thought he highly doubted that. Her views had always been far too liberal for the Snape family.

Hermione noticed the sudden silence and looked over at Severus. His body language conveyed nothing, though he was gripping the parchment unnaturally tightly. Feeling brave as she was that morning, she gently placed her hand on his arm and squeezed. He looked up in surprise, having forgotten she was there. Looking into his eyes, Hermione could see more emotion conveyed in them in that one moment than she had ever known him to show during her whole time in the castle. There always seemed to be some sort of wall between the Severus he showed and his feelings within, but now, there was something pure. It was overwhelming.

"What is it?" She asked softly, knowing he was unlikely to answer. This was the only occasion she could remember where he hadn't pulled his arm immediately away when she touched it, and she was glad she could bring him some comfort.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. They seemed stuck in his throat. He thrust the parchment into her hands, then got up and left the table, leaving her staring after him. Skimming the parchment, Hermione let out a soft 'oh' of realisation and pity. She knew he had left precisely because of that. He would not want her pity.

She wanted to help, but how? He would not let her get close to him and the only reason their friendship worked was because it was purely superficial. They stayed away from personal topics and kept to subjects of academia, that way there was no need for either one to feel awkward. She didn't know what to do.

***

Severus was sat in his rooms. He was not crying, he was not in hysterics. He had hidden his emotions for so long that he no longer knew how to feel them. He needed his fox, his symbol of comfort, of friendship. He needed his mother. She had protected him from the blows of the father, from the poison of hatred. She had showed him how to be good and how to love, and even though it had been so long that he had almost forgotten how, he still remembered her. Not a beaten and broken woman, not the person that his father had worn down so much that he had broken. Just his mother. He needed her warmth, he needed her smile. Gods, he needed his mother.

And he sat in his rooms. Not crying, not in hysterics.

A school barn owl fluttered through the window and dropped a single daisy onto his lap. He knew who it was from. She always wore them in her curly hair.

Rising from his seat, he knew where he had to go.

***

**A/N: Hope you liked it ******

**Signed reviews will get a personal response, and what follows here is my response to the anonymous reviews I have received. **

**Ana*Haku*Chan: Your English is very good, much better than any of my other languages. Thank you for the kind review, and yes it is kind of a sad story but I think the best romances are always sad. **

**Jane Doe- I shall try to correct the capitalisations in future. ******** Thanks for your constructive notes on the characters- I had thought that Harry was quite in character, for I remember him going between Ron and Hermione when they argue in the books. Mrs Weasley will not remain so unreasonable forever, she just always struck me as incredibly defensive to the point of delusion about her family. Hope you are enjoying the story ******


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Dedicated as usual to all my lovely reviewers, particularly **Babyscardinal **and **BigreaderUK.

**The song mentioned in the funeral is 'Do not stand' by Libera. Youtube it, it really is worth it, makes me shiver every time I hear it. **

Chapter 17.

Severus stood nervously outside her door. It was ridiculous. It was late at night for starters. He did not know what inkling of delusion had compelled him to visit her, and could indeed think of no reason why he should.

Why on earth would the Gryffindor Princess of light want to comfort Voldemort's right hand weapon? But there had been the flower. And it could be said that in recent months they were almost like friends. Almost.

There was a quiet tap on her portrait, and she frowned. She certainly wasn't expecting visitors at this hour, having just gotten ready for bed. She was wearing a large pale blue man's shirt, and a pair of underwear shorts. Certainly not how she would like anyone from the castle to see her. But someone had knocked on her portrait and therefore she must answer it; it was surely important.

She was rather shocked to see an obviously nervous Severus Snape standing outside her portrait. The fact that he was there was not what shocked her- she had after all sent him the flower, to show him that he was not alone. What shocked her was how nervous and...open he seemed. Usually, even when he was happy, anyone who knew him could tell that there were walls in place. But he seemed different now.

Not in a bad way- he had not been defeated and therefore did not care about opening up, but it almost looked like he was tired. And he was. So tired of pretending to be strong, pretending not to care, pretending to be ok.

No words were needed; she ushered him into her rooms, and he sat down on her couch while, ever the muggle, Hermione made him a cup of tea.

Severus was unsure of what to do- this was entirely new territory to him. He wanted to talk but did not know how to begin. He looked at his hands, which were currently situated in his lap, and examined them in detail. It seemed to be a better pastime than figuring out what to say. In her presence he was no longer the fearsome and respected evil potions master, he was a broken man. Well, maybe he was respected too.

A soft hand on his shoulder shocked him, and he began to shake almost violently. Concern was apparent in Hermione's eyes. She too was not sure what was expected of her as confidant of Severus Snape- there were not many she could go to for advice on the matter.

Hermione was apprehensive- and yet warmed by his arrival. He was beginning to trust her. And even though her hand shook slightly, she moved around the couch and sat down, continuing to rub soothing circles on Severus's back, even though she was convinced he would hex her for doing so at any moment. She'd be ok, she had good reflexes.

Waiting patiently, Severus's shakes eventually subsided and he found the strength to look at her. Sat in front of him was this tiny, tiny woman who had been beaten down and broken as he had and yet....she sat there before him, strong, and offering comfort. Why couldn't he do that?

"I..." He began, not quite knowing how to finish. He wanted to tell her how much he respected her, how foolish Ronald Weasley was, how sorry he was for being so cruel to her in her school days. There was so much he wanted to say, he so much regretted being a puppet for the Lord of Darkness.

"I apologise, Miss Granger, for the lateness of my visit."

She chuckled slightly, and in a bold move, took both his hands in hers.

"Severus, my name is Hermione. And it's ok."

"But it's not is it. Hermione. It's not." She withdrew her hands, and he found himself missing their warmth. He had not realised how cold he had become until he knew the warmth of her hands.

Pulling her bare legs up to her chest, she hugged her knees. She knew he was referring to more than the time of his visit- she'd have to be as thick as a brick not to.

"Why not Severus?"

His voice cracked as he tried to answer. "You and Ron. The broken angel being hurt by the person who was supposed to love her. My mother....my protector. Gone. And there's nothing I can do. And you, you little infuriating, bushy haired girl, you are stronger than me. And I should be strong."

There were so many things in that statement that Hermione wanted to leap upon, but she knew what Severus had come for.

"Severus....why was your mother your protector?"

He looked at her, and slumped back into the soft sofa. If he told her there would be no turning back; she would forever know that he was a weak, weak man who deserved no love of comfort. But not telling her would kill him. He could not blame it on the alcohol this time.

"She protected me from my father. She....she always saved me. And now she's gone." Hermione looked at him with compassion. She was almost afraid he would mistake it for pity, but it was not. She truly felt for the man.

"What happened to your father?"

"He was alive throughout the war. Was a supporter of Voldemort. When the war ended and he realised he had lost, he came to me for solace, looking to start a new band of Death Eaters. I broke the news to him that I was on the side of the light, and he fled. I haven't heard from him since."

Hermione leaned forward, so that she was sitting mere inches from him. She wanted to offer him some kind of comfort, but was unsure. She knew that any intimacies that occurred between them would only make his ignoring of her more resolute the next day.

"Severus, you are a brave, brave man. You stood up to your father, you fought courageously for the light. You are a good man. You're an amazing man. I have never respected anyone as much as I do you, and believe me Severus, you don't need saving. Let your mother go. You are strong, she doesn't need to save you anymore."

Severus turned to her and gave her a look so intense it took her breath away. His chocolate eyes saw right through her, boring into her. His hand pulled hers to him, and he clutched at it almost painfully.

"I need saving now more than ever. Just not in the same way."

***

Severus looked at himself in the mirror. He had had a long discussion with Hermione that night. Although maybe discussion was not the right word. He had mainly talked and she had listened. It was strange. It was as though, through her friendship he had almost discovered a new world. Or rather, he was being introduced to the world for the first time. He relished in the feeling of her soft hands on his, of her slow, soothing manner of speaking to him.

Sighing, he straightened his robes. Today was his mothers funeral. Minerva had permitted him to have the service by the lake, as oddly, his mother's last request had been to be buried in the forbidden forest. Nothing wrong with that, he mused, and she had never been a woman of convention. The funeral would be pure bloods only of course- his uncle and the rest of the family would have it no other way, no matter how much he might want to invite certain people.

She was right of course. He didn't need his mother's protection now. It was time to let her go.

***

Hermione was in the greenhouse, practising. Her animagus transformations were becoming easier and easier, and she was now almost at the point where she could do it at the click of her fingers. Though she still had no idea what her form was. Judging from how she felt when she was transformed, she was not large. Looking around, she could see that she was at least shorter than the tables and benches, the tips of her ears barely brushed the seat of the bench.

Feeling adventurous, she decided to go for a wander. Clearly she was not a big enough animal to be a threat, so why not? Her discussion with Severus last week had put her in an extremely good mood, made even better by the fact that he did not overly ridicule her the next day. Maybe he was becoming comfortable around her, though she was not foolish enough to dream.

She could feel her soft feet padding across the ground, and made a mental note to stay away from any rough gravel or surfaces. Grass it was then. Making her way around the lake at a slow run, she could see a procession taking place on the other side. Of course. The funeral was today. She knew she should stay away. But then when had she ever been known not to bow to the claws of curiosity?

***

Severus glanced at the people surrounding him, knowing that even though they were 'family' he would never be close to anyone here. The entire congregation had given him a meter's berth as they all stood, observing the coffin.

The coffin had been made of elegant dark mahogany, and was draped in an emerald sheet adorned with black crystals. Behind the coffin stood a choir, softly singing. Severus allowed the words to wash over him, feeling peaceful, he closed his eyes and tilted his head back.

'_Do not stand at my grave and weep ... I am not there.... I do not sleep..."_

Exhaling deeply, he knew this was his final goodbye. His goodbye to the last person who had truly loved him, who would have laid down her life for him. It was true that he had not had much communication with his mother of late, but still. She was his mother. He loved her, and now that she was gone, he was scared that he would never be capable of that emotion again. It hurt.

"_I am a thousand winds that blow.... I am the diamond glints on snow...."_

Well she had certainly been majestic enough, he thought with a smile that almost bordered on a grimace. His mother had compensated for her husband with finery, she had always been dripping with diamonds and the cold, hard comfort that they brought. The love of fine things was never something that he had inherited, preferring to stick to simple furnishings and low key outfits. But she had always dazzled with light.

"_I am the stars that shine at night..."_

And he had stared out at them often enough. Knowing that stars could not be tainted by evil and that no matter how corrupted he became, he could always look out to the same stars. They always remained, twinkling away, reminding him that no matter what sordid things he had done, he was still himself. He was still Severus. And now, now that the war was over, he finally had the chance to discover who 'Severus' was.

"_Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not there. I did not die."_

Purely metaphorical of course, because she was dead. She was there. In that coffin. A cold, lifeless corpse, due to be buried. Severus opened his eyes and looked around. He had a painful lump in his throat, and felt dangerously close to breaking. He looked around and all he could see were distant relatives, who neither knew nor cared for his mother, and were merely there because it was expected. And then he saw it.

Just visible through his second cousin's legs, he could see deep, dark red fur. A fox looking confused, and somewhat mesmerised. A fox that was staring directly at him.

Relief flooded through his body- he did not know how it was possible, but this was the exact same fox that had comforted him throughout his life. It had always looked the same. Even from when he was a child to when he was a spy, the fox had never seemed to age. And here it was again now- but something was wrong.

The first time he had seen the fox, when he was a child, it had been timid. But over time it had learnt that in approaching Severus it would not be harmed, and the last times he had seen it, the fox had always approached him readily.

Although seeing the fox brought him some comfort, he could not understand why it did not approach. It would have been such a relief just to be able to stroke the thing. Gods, it looked exactly the same.

Severus watched as the fox quickly moved away from the procession, having noticed Severus watching it. It padded softly and gracefully back towards the castle, and after watching it briefly, Severus turned back towards the coffin. It had been here, and that was what mattered.

The fox had been here for him, and later, Hermione would be there for him. That was all that mattered.

***

Hermione quickly retreated back to the greenhouses after realising she had been seen. It was foolish really to get so close to the funeral, but the music had been stunning, had sounded so pure, that she had to be closer. Of course Severus had seen her, and she'd had to leave. He'd looked at her with something almost like knowing....but no that couldn't be it, she chuckled.

Once back in her rooms, she transformed again, in front of the mirror. Gazing at her reflection, she gave a wolfish- no, foxy- grin. She was her favourite animal. Perhaps she was slyer than people gave her credit for.

**A/N: hope you liked it....review? please? All will get a personal reply. **

**Anonymous review responses: **

Rainclouds of doom: you'll see :P and thanks. I'm planning for Neville to make a comeback later  and he'll certainly feature heavily in the sequels.

Ana*haku*chan: i want to hug him too  !! thanks for the review 


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Dedicated to all my lovely reviewers. This story is going to have 21 chapters so we are now getting close to the end =] **

**I have two sequels planned, so hopefully you will all enjoy those just as much. **

**Chapter 18. **

Hermione hummed on her way down to the dungeons. It had been a good week. No letters from Ron, ever more entertaining letters from admirers, plenty of adventures in her foxy form, and to top it all off, Severus had been talking to her about his mother. It was amazing for her to see the other side of him- she would never have thought the cold, recluse potions master could be so warm.

She was making her way down to the dungeons for her latest in a series of Legilimens lessons. She was getting better and better, and once she had mastered the talent she planned to reduce the spell to it's arithmetic roots to incorporate it into her potion currently sitting in the dungeons. Snape had looked over her potion, smirked his approval, and cast a preservation charm over it so that whilst it was sat in his private labs it would remain in pristine condition. This didn't stop her checking up on it though, call it a compulsive habit.

Hermione tapped lightly on Severus's status portrait- abstract swirls of colour with moving shadows in the background- and it swing open admitting her into his rooms. Snape's room arrangement was different to Hermione's- his first room, instead of a lounge, was a potions lab. Her potion was stood to one side, and as usual she leant over to check it.

"I haven't poisoned it." Came the droll calling from across the room as Snape emerged from his kitchens.

Hermione grinned.

"Just checking. Call it natural Gryffindor suspicion of a Slytherin."

Raising an eyebrow, Severus set down his mug of coffee on the bench. "You know technichally you're a Hufflepuff now." He barely got to finish the sentence before Hermione jovially hit him on the arm and gave him an admonishing glare.

"Don't joke about that." She laughed. He almost smiled. It amazed him that in a few short months she had managed to work her way into his life. He enjoyed her company, oddly enough. She didn't press him to talk when he didn't want to, and like him, she appreciated the comfortable silence and satisfaction books and academia could bring.

He hadn't mentioned seeing the fox at his mother's funeral to her- she'd only think he'd been on the firewhiskey or something similar. They had discussed how people are strong in different ways, and slowly, she had helped him come to terms with the fact that he didn't need to be strong all the time. Her own health had come alone marvellously too, now that the ginger dolt was leaving her alone.

Similarly, she had not told him that she knew her animagus form. He knew she had been practising, but she was worried that if she told him he'd realise she'd spied on his mother's funeral, and be angry with her for trespassing where she was not wanted.

"Shall we begin?" She asked, moving gracefully across the room. Severus watched her for a second before replying- she was still the same, curly haired, brown eyed woman she had always been but it was like she was different somehow. Maybe it was just the absence of prejudice which had usually clouded his vision. Maybe it was that she had never smiled _at him _before. Whatever it was, he had to reluctantly admit that he liked it.

"Of course." He smoothly replied, moving into position. He was on the near side of the room by the store cupboard, she near her potion where she had been checking it mere moments before.

"Oh Hermione, before we begin, did you receive the letter I sent you before you came here?"

She looked at him in puzzlement.

"No I didn't. Was it important?"

"No." He smirked. "You can read it later."

He'd written to her in thanks. He was not a rash man. He'd just wanted to thank her for her friendship. But of course he could never say it to her face. She was the first true friend in a long time.

"Ok. You first?" He nodded, knowing she was now referring again to their lessons. She had not been trying to learn occlumency- for the purpose of her equations she had wanted to know how Legilimens felt from the perspective of the caster and the victim, so allowed him to wander freely in her thoughts before attempting to penetrate his.

Severus could see her bracing herself, and silently cast the charm. Her thoughts and memories appeared to him in an almost move like montage- he was in the greenhouses. Marking work. No- practising. Practising his – her- transformation. Then he wasn't. He was now by the lake watching a procession. Severus frowned- he hadn't known she'd been there that day. And then he was back in her rooms. Looking in the mirror. But how was that possible? That wasn't Hermione in the mirror that was .... Sara ....

Stumbling in confusion, Hermione took advantage of his moment of weakness and darted forward into his thoughts. He looked like he was losing control. Hermione was Sara. She couldn't be. It wasn't possible.

The memories were swivelling round and round in his brain, confusion tainting the view. She could see... .his mother. His father. So much pain and screaming. He just wanted to run and run and never come back.

She bent over, an intense pain in her abdomen. Severus really had lost control now, she was sifting – unintentionally- through his oldest memories. Gasping, she realised that she could now see Lilly. Severus looked at her- her eyes were glazed. She could see Lilly, smiling, laughing, hugging Severus- and then everything changed and swivelled, and they were by the lake. Severus was spitting that horrid word- and the look of pain in her eyes consumed him, completely, he was drowning in loneliness.... and then he was knelt. He was knelt before the Dark Lord and so....numb. Then the Lord changed....it was Dumbledore. And Severus was agreeing to be a spy- even though it filled him with so much fear. So much all consuming fear. And then more fear- Nagini!

Rain was beating down against the bare walls of the shrieking shack, thunder rolling through the sky, and she felt his dread. The rain soaked him, soaked him in despair and desperation. No one would be with him when he died. Knowing he would die having never loved, never cared, never been cared for. She felt him giving up- felt his soul leaving him. And a whiff of- wait, no, her shower gell? Why on earth was her shower gell in his memories? And why on earth could she hear animals fighting behind her? No, behind him....but she was there too...

"Enough!" Severus thundered, pushing her so hard from his thoughts that she fell.

She fell backwards, expecting to hit the cold, hard, stone floor. But it never came. She continued falling, feeling a cold liquid- her potion- wash over her. And she never hit the floor.

**A/N: Um yeah, review please? I know it's shorter than usual I apologise, but the next chapter will be longer than usual. **


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: thanks for all my ace reviews! **

**One thing I must make clear is that Bellatrix does not kill Hermione in fox form at the beginning of DH – she is only with him at certain points, the reasons for which shall be revealed in this chapter. Thanks for reading!**

**Chapter 18. **

Eventually, of course, Hermione hit the ground. Soft, spongy grass. It was slightly damp- as if it had been raining. Looking around she could see that it was absolutely thundering, but that she was being protected by a canopy of trees.

Trying to force down the panic that was rising in her chest, she forced herself to breathe and think logically about what had happened. The forest seemed familiar to her although she was not sure why, and in the distance she could see a grand, gothic manor. It was majestic and ugly all at once.

"OK so... I had a Legilimens connection to Severus who was thinking about his past. I fell into my potion. By doing so I activated it. Not too sure how that works, but hey here I am so it must be possible. I haven't adapted the potion for future use yet so logically, I must be in the past." Looking around she sighed. "But then what about this is logical."

"Right, so in the past. Excellent. But where? Think. The potion you were developing was to take the user to significant points in the future using the equations of Legilimency, so if I had a connection to Severus when I fell in, maybe I'm in the memories he was having? That would make sense I suppose."

Hermione's frantic thought process took less than a minute, which was just as well because as she looked around half heartedly, a door in the large mansion slammed closed, and a small boy ran towards the woods. Hermione did not want to be seen, so as she watched the young man run through the searing rain, she transformed quietly into her fox form, knowing that if she was seen it could have dramatic consequences on her future. She could only see the back of the young man, but as he stomped through the forest, she decided to follow him. He seemed on edge, and if she knew him, he would never recognise her in her fox form anyway.

As he flung himself down at the base of the tree, Hermione's suspicions were confirmed and she recognised him immediately. It was, of course, the younger Severus Snape. He looked to be about 10 years old, and his eyes were red and bleary. Keeping to the undergrowth, she watched as he sobbed into his hands, pulling his sleeves up to wipe his eyes. She didn't know exactly what he was crying about although from what she knew of his past she could guess.

She moved forwards slightly as the cold wind howled through the trees, drowning out his desperation. She tried to make as little noise as possible, but Severus still looked up sharply, apparently having heard some noises. Upon catching sight of the fox, he started a little. It was unusual to see an animal just sitting and looking at him without running away.

Most of the animals that lived surrounding his house knew that he had a streak for cruelty, and he was used to them running away when they saw him. It seemed odd that this fox appeared not to be afraid of him. Oh well. He didn't care. Let the stupid animal approach him if it wanted- it'd only leave eventually or get hurt anyway. He wouldn't hurt it but no doubt through contact with him it would get hurt. But the fox didn't seem to realise that. It slowly approached him, and looked at him with big brown eyes.

Hermione had only wanted to stop him crying- he was a child. And he seemed so sad. He deserved some happy memories throughout his childhood, she felt sorry for him. She padded slowly up to him, somewhat wary. She didn't think he'd hex her, but then you could never be sure.

The fox came to a stop just by his knee, and sat there looking at him. It didn't look like it was going to pounce, or run away, or any of the things Severus would have expected. Tentatively, he reached out a hand, wanting to see if the fox would bit him. The fox eyed him up, almost nervously, but didn't move. He gently continued to reach out, and he stroked the fox.

IT was soothing, he realised. To feel soft fur on his cracked, sore hands. He could almost relax. Every limb in his body was sore, tense, expecting a new blow. He'd come outside just to feel the soothing rain on his burning skin. He'd just wanted a second, a minute, to breath, before having to go back to the reality of the cold hard mansion. He'd left his mother inside...he burnt with shame at the thought that by escaping for some time he had condemned her, but he couldn't take it anymore.

So for the next hour, he sat under the tree, gradually getting wetter and wetter, stroking the fox. It eventually laid its head in his leg, and for just a few seconds he closed his eyes. He so needed the rest. And when he woke up again, the fox was gone.

***

Hermione felt herself....fading. It was strange. She almost likened it to when she took a dose of pollyjuice potion. Right at the end when time runs out and you start changing back to yourself bit by bit, that was how she felt. Except she wasn't changing, she was gradually disappearing. Slinking away from Severus, she ran towards a bush, where she could disappear without the danger of him waking up and seeing her. But then who would believe a ten year old about a disappearing fox anyway?

***

Seconds later she reappeared in the same forest. She couldn't understand it. Must have been something to do with the 'significant points' connection, she mused, looking around, still in her fox form. Again, she saw a young man storming across the fields towards the forest. He looked about 13 this time- though much skinner and obviously malnourished. She hoped he'd remember her- she didn't want to be cursed by the obviously angry Snape. He was walking through the forest, cursing small animals left and right. Mainly insects, but he was getting closer.

As a small burst of red light grazed across her back, she yelped and jumped out of the bushes almost instinctively. Right into the path of the oncoming Severus. Again he had been crying- large wet drops of fear, anger and hate dripped down his face. Upon seeing Hermione- the fox- he stopped casting and looked at her curiously. It dawned on him that he almost remembered her. Hermione gazed up at his face, looking at how much more stern it had become in three short years. She knew she should be scared- it was likely she would get cursed at any moment. But somehow she wasn't.

She could see bruises up and down his arms, and scratches around his neck. She looked up at him with sympathy in her large brown eyes- as he looked down at her.

Kneeling down he extended his hand. He knew this fox. He had no idea how- he didn't think foxes lived here anymore.

He'd seen one a few years ago, and since then had been looking for it many times, but he had been forced to conclude some time ago that the forest was empty of foxes. And yet here was one- with such odd large eyes, looking so familiar. So like the last one he had seen. Seeing it had dissolved all his anger in an instant and he wanted nothing more than to sit and stroke it again. So he did.

He sat, cross legged, and watched the fox as it watched him. No, not it. She, he was sure of it. He didn't know how he just was. 'Sara' he whispered gently.

This filled Hermione with panic- Sara- the fox- the one Severus had spoken about- the one who was always there. So this was what was happening. Her potion was sending her leapfrogging throughout his life- and suddenly the cold pang of fear hit her, for she knew what was coming.

This time he was determined not to fall asleep- though of course he did. The calming presence of the fox, along with the weeks of exhaustion at the hands of his father, forced his eyes to slowly close in the middle of the forest. Waiting until she knew he was asleep, Hermione sighed.

She knew she would be disappearing soon. Before she left, she was determined to do something for him. His life was so cold. She transformed, pulling something out of the waistband of her robes- her magical first aid kit. She knew carrying it everywhere would pay off. Pulling out the dittany, she began to gently apply it to his neck, trying very hard not to wake him, her hair blowing gently around her in the breeze, her scent wafting over him.

She looked into her first aid kit, wondering if she had the things she'd need for the upcoming task. Plenty of dittany, that could at least help to stabilize. Two bezoars, cures for most poisons, thank god....she'd need to crush one though to put on a bite as well as in his throat....

Placing everything back into her bag, and fastening it back to her waist, she cast one last glance back at Severus before heading towards the trees to wait for her disappearance.

***

Opening her eyes, she knew at once where she was. She was at Hogwarts, in the small patch of trees by the lake. Thank god she was under shelter, she wouldn't like to have students seeing a fox suddenly appear out of no where. She could see a steady stream of students flowing across the field- many holding exam papers. She didn't recognize any of the students, apart from two groups. She could see the Marauders, including- she gasped- Harry's parents. And she could see Severus, on his own, heading towards the lake.

She remembered Harry telling her about this memory, and knew it would be best to stay hidden for time being. She knew of the argument to come, and she knew Severus was about to utter the word that would forever condemn his only friendship.

She could hear the shouts- and didn't want to look. She knew what was going on.

Eventually, all the students left, and Severus remained, on his own, fuming. He was so angry about James Potter, and yet, so sad, so remorseful for what he had said to Lilly. He didn't know if he should cry or curse.

Hermione slowly emerged from behind the trees. For him, it had been two years since he had last seen her, for her it had been two minutes. He looked much better. No scratches, no bruises. He had been most surprised when he had woken up the last time, and not only had the fox gone, but so had the marks on his neck. Somehow they were healed. He didn't understand- but he wasn't going to complain. And now here it was again. His little fox, his little Sara. He'd searched for her again after the last time she had visited- spent hours, scouring the forest, searching the grounds of his home but she was no where to be found. But it didn't matter. She was there when things got really bad, and that was what mattered.

And now here she was again, at Hogwarts. There was no question of it being a different fox- it looked exactly the same. Same large, understanding brown eyes, same deep red fur, same markings around the collar of her neck. She looked exactly the same.

He was so pleased to see her. He just needed comfort from someone, anyone. He'd just effectively killed his only friendship, and was left well and truly alone. Was he such a bad person? He didn't know. But the fox was here. And as usual, she crept forward, waiting for his hand to extend, to show he wouldn't hurt her.

He would've smiled if he felt able. But for so long now he'd just felt empty.

He breathed out at the feel of soft fur under his hands, and began to talk. He didn't know why, but he supposed it was not as though a fox could judge him.

He talked for hours, releasing years worth of tension that was caught up in his body. He told the fox of how he hated his father, how much he wished he could stop his mother being hurt. How much he didn't want to join the death eaters, how his father had threatened to kill him if he didn't.

He talked about his despair, how broken he felt. How he just wanted some warmth in his life. And now the one person who'd been able to give it to him he'd just called ... a mudblood. And he cried. For the first, and last time in his life he cried. Under the impression that no one was there to see it so it would not matter if he was weak. And he stroked and stroked the fox, desperate to make the short hours last as long as possible, for he knew. He just knew it would be a long time until he saw her again.

***

It was more than ten years later when Hermione reappeared. She was in a corridor of Hogwarts, outside Dumbledore's office. She knew from seeing Severus's memories that he was in there, telling Dumbledore that he would be a spy. And she knew how much it scared him.

She felt so much sympathy for him. She just wanted to reach out and take him in her arms, and tell him that everything would be ok. He had been so broken throughout her life that it almost brought her to tears. Because she knew that he truly believed he would die doing the bidding of the Order. When she got back to her own time, she knew, she would tell him every day how brave and courageous she thought he was.

She watched him emerge from the office, and mewed softly. It's hard to describe the sound that a fox makes, but Severus recognised it instantly.

Turning swiftly on his heel, he looked down at her, now a full grown man, with coldness in his eyes and coldness in his heart.

He knelt down to her and gently tickled behind her ears. "Go, Sara. I am too old and too damaged. Such a pure thing as you does not want to be tainted by me." He rose, and with that, left before any students or staff could turn up and see him being kind to a small animal.

Hermione sadly gazed after him. She knew what was coming next. She knew how much pain he would go through between now and when she would next see him. And she was so sad for it.

***

She opened her eyes. Rain beat down like bullets on the thin walls of the shack. Thunder crashed, and outside the windows was pure darkness. She could smell the sickening smell of blood, and hear the shouts and yells as fighters from either side died in the fields around the building. Becoming stable on her four legs, she knew where she had to go. She had to save him. He was so worth it.

**A/N: Review? Please? All will get a personal response, promise.**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N:**

**Many of you have questions about the technical logistics of how this will work- with regards to bezoars, time paradoxes, etc, and I would like to reassure all the readers that this will all be explained before the end of the story. **

**Despite my previous assurances this story will be longer than 21 chapters. **

**Chapter 20**

Hermione began to run faster. Even though she had shorter legs in her fox form, she could run much faster that way due to the two extra limbs.

The rain continued to hit the walls in a steady drum-beat, and Hermione could hear Lord Voldemort's voice ringing across the fields and castle, taunting Harry. It was so tempting to go and find her friends, to tell them it would be ok, to stop people dying- but she knew she could not. She was here for a purpose- find Snape. Harry would soon be here too, where he would've collected memories from Snape. But not anymore.

Hermione ran into the room where she could see Severus lying on the floor, and her heart flip-flopped. It was just him and the snake, Voldemort having left minutes previously. She'd had to time this perfectly. She could see the snake approaching him, and crossed the room in several short, quick steps.

The snake's skin reflected the moonlight in a hypnotising way- it's fangs flashed, it lunged, and just as it's piercing fangs punctured Severus's skin it was thrown back in a whirling dervish of red fur and claws. Hermione attacked with the strength of a lioness defending her cubs- she would truly fight to the death for Severus.

The amazing man deserved it so much.

She bit, scratched and wrestled with the snake, using all the tools at her disposal. It was long, and it was exhausting. It seemed that she barely managed to injure the creature before it was coming back at her, eyes gleaming, the smell of blood in its nostrils. And all the while she was terrified that Voldemort, or Harry would walk in on them and all her effort would be fruitless. And most of all- she was so so afraid that Severus would give up. She wanted him to live. She prayed, willed, hoped with every fibre of her being that he would live.

It seemed to her that the fight lasted hours – in fact it lasted mere minutes. She limped away from the body of the snake, trying not to let her injuries overcome here. The mission was not over yet.

It hurt. It was searing agony. Her very skin ached. She was only a little fox, and it was a very big snake. It was worth it- Severus was worth it. She wanted nothing more than to get back to her own time and tell him how much she respected him. How much she knew he had given up to save the wizarding world. She just wanted to tell him that everything would be ok. She just wanted to hold him.

Transforming smoothly back to her Human form, Hermione raced over to the barley warm body of Severus. He was pale- thankfully the bite was not deep. Pushing one of her Bezoars into his mouth, she hoped it would sustain him. She had no hopes that it would cure him- but all she needed was for him to be stable until Harry, or someone, anyone, could find him. Pulling out her crushed bezoar, she mixed it into a paste with the dittany. Gently, but none the less quickly, she spread it over his snake bite. She didn't know if it would work, but she hoped so. She prayed so. Or her future would be very, very different.

As she leant over him, applying the salve to his wounds, her curly hair tickled his face. He mumbled something- she could not tell what. The effort seemed almost to drain his strength. She looked at him, a warm spark echoing behind her eyes. Gently she placed a finger over his dry lips and shushed him. She leant down so that her head was next to his and gently whispered into his ear:

"You will be ok. I fought for you. If you don't survive this please, please know that I fought for you. Because you are so special Severus Snape. So, so special. Please don't die." Pulling away, she repeated that to herself over, and over.

"Please, don't die."

The body of the snake lay, limp in the corner. It was the only thing there that could have, had it been alive, seen the special bond between the two people. The almost golden glow that seemed to surround them as Hermione whispered into his ear, and her soft lips touched his dry chapped ones, her warm tears refreshing her face amid the torrents of cruel cold rain.

***

When Harry arrived at the Shrieking Shack 15 minutes later, he found Severus Snape in an almost comatose state. Comatose, but alive.

For the next four weeks he lay in St. Mungo's making miraculous recoveries. Recoveries which could not entirely be attributed to the almost instant application of Bezoars. Some said that there was almost a glow about him.

When he eventually awoke he looked around wildly, a searching, haunted look in his eyes. He had been having dreams. Dreams about being loved, about being held, about being saved. But when he looked around the hospital ward he was alone once again. He would've almost preferred to stay asleep.

***

Hermione lay in wait in her fox form, to make sure he was found. Truth be told there was not much else she could do; her injuries were overcoming her. She only hoped she was taken back to her time before it was too late- she knew she could be healed easily enough but she had not the strength. She needed to be at home – she needed Poppy, she needed Severus. Gods, she needed Severus.

She drifted gradually in and out of consciousness- the girl who drifted gradually in and out of time. And waited. To be saved or to be slaughtered. To return to her own time or to lie on the cold, wet floor of the shack and die. As she finally succumbed to the lure of sleep, she gradually began to fade.

**A/N: I know it's short, and I apologise. Next few chapters will be good, i promise!**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Thank you so much for your kind, kind reviews. I would like to apologise for a mistake made in the previous chapter- it is obviously not the first time Severus has cried as he cried in the chapter before that. **

**Apologies for the delay fanfic would not let me update but coffeeonthepatio (who as some ace stories) helped me get round it. I'm very drink right now so on with the story!**

**Chapter 21. **

The uncanny thing about Legilimens links is that it is not just one person looking at another's thoughts. The other person lives it too. These two people are intrinsically linked through heart, soul and thought. Like it or not, for the time that they are linked they share each other's thoughts, feelings and most importantly, pain.

While Hermione was making herself busy saving Severus's life, Severus was reliving his memories too, from her perspective.

He felt, burning through his heart, the intense tenderness that she looked at him with whilst under the tree. He felt the affection which she longed to give him. He felt her calm understanding of him. She knew he had called his best friend names unthinkable, she knew he had been a death eater, and he knew that that only increased her longing for him. He could feel it growing within her.

Truth be told, for the last few weeks he had felt it growing within himself.

He could feel this tiny, small, amazing girl, who had been through so much, slowly begin to love him.

He felt her fear. It was ice cold, it was shattering. She knew what was coming- and he was beginning to understand. He felt her pain, he howled out into the night, crying her tears, as the snake slashed and bit her skin, he sobbed as she grew weaker, having used all her resources to save him. Knowing that she had given everything just so that she would live. It was like an amazing magnifying myriad of thoughts and feelings- not only was he feeling her spirit, he was feeling his own, and they were bouncing off each other in a wonderful complimentary whirlwind of emotion.

As she touched her soft lips to his dry ones, even though it was happening in the past, he felt it. His fingers traced his lips, wishing that she was here. And all he could do was wait. Because he knew she was injured, and he knew he could do nothing.

Severus, sat, and waited. The connection between the two was still open, and Severus could feel her getting weaker. He waited in the dungeons, reasoning that as this was where she had disappeared, this was where she would reappear.

He alerted Poppy to be ready, alerted St Mungo's just in case. If she didn't survive it would be all his fault.

Hours passed, and she had not returned. He could feel her – he knew she was still alive. Her heart was beating along side his own, it was like he had two pulses running through his body. Electrifying- another person was inside his very spirit; and he didn't mind. He could hear her ragged breathing. He knew she was not giving up yet. She had been beaten, broken and bruised, and she would not give up.

By the next day, the press had picked up that Hermione Granger, war hero, had gone missing. Apparently some students had overheard Poppy and Minerva talking, and had not hesitated to contact that ridiculous Rita Skeeter.

Both Ron and Harry had stormed the castle, demanding to know what happened. Upon hearing the news Severus had left the dungeon, and swiftly punched Ron in the face- for once lowering his standards to street brawling. This man had been entrusted with keeping Hermione happy, with loving her, and he had failed. Abysmally.

Thankfully, Minerva was sensible and would tell them nothing, simply stating that the school did not know of her whereabouts. Many of the general public assumed she had been kidnapped by renegade death eaters- though Severus, Poppy, Minerva and several high ranking healers knew this not to be the case.

They were all waiting on tenterhooks, for the day their heroine would return. Severus was determined not to let her slip away- he kept constant guard.

Two days later, the general riot had died down. Severus still sat, pale faced, in his dungeon. He refused to move. He had been saved by this wonderful young girl and he was determined to return the favour.

Three days later, Hermione had still not returned. He did not know why.

Leaving Poppy to watch his dungeons while he stretched his legs, he wandered aimlessly around the castle. His legs seemed to take on a life of their own- he ended up, of course, outside Hermione's status portrait. A small child laid flat on his back, looking at the milky blue sky. In the background there were a host of figures, all apparently calling to the child. Severus could hear them. They all wanted the child to return home, but the child could not hear. It continued to look at the sky.

Ducking into her rooms, Severus looked around. He could see the letter he had written her, laid on her bed. It contained two simple words, in scratchy handwriting. _Thank you. _How ironic.

He sat dejectedly on her bed. Still, the connection remained open between the two. The bed was so comfortable, he leaned back. He had not felt- not allowed himself to feel- comfort in such a long time. And he found it with her. He wished with all his hear that she would come back. Please, just come back.

In his mind, he could visibly imagine her. Lying, on the cold floor in the shack. Alone. He began to imagine something else. He imagined what it would be like if she was here. Just here, lying next to him. Her head leaning on his chest, him stroking her hair. He was not a man who liked to be affectionate, but he felt that under the circumstances he could allow it.

He leaned back and closed his eyes, allowing his imagination to have free reign. She was here, she was next to him, and they were ok. They would talk, talk about everything, and she would not let him get hurt again. He could imagine how her head would feel leaning against his chest- it was oddly real.

He tried to open his eyes, and shake the vision off, but found that he could not. The weight on his chest was real – the hair strewn across his torso, real. She had been linked to him- wherever he had thought about, she had been sent. Now he was thinking about her here- and here she was. There was almost a throbbing sound, as bit by bit, she appeared on the bed. He could hear her ragged breathing- see her wounds.

In a rush he ran over to the fire, and flooed Poppy, snarling at her to get here now, so panicked that he would not be able to help her in time. Glancing over at her, he saw that her eyes were open. Staring at him through big, brown, affectionate eyes.

He dropped down on his knees next to the bed, almost afraid to touch her for fear she would break. Grasping her hand, he watched her smile. "Thank you." He whispered over and over again, pushing her hair gently off her face and staring into her eyes. "Thank you."

And she smiled. Because it was ok. She was back. His long elegant fingers were stroking the palm of her hand. His lips were whispering to her, he was stroking her face. He was alive. And she didn't intend to let go of his hand any time soon.

**A/N: Thank you so much for your kind, kind reviews. I would like to apologise for a mistake made in the previous chapter- it is obviously not the first time Severus has cried as he cried in the chapter before that. **


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: **

**Thank you to all my lovely reviewers. I'm planning that this will be the last chapter, soon to be followed by the sequel "The return of the father." Which will be posted in a few days. **

"**The return of the father will mainly be about the development of Sev and Hermione, and quite an action filled dramatic fic as opposed to this angsty one. There will be another sequel after that which will be heartbreaking. **

**Finally, a note to anyone who thinks this story idea 'silly': It's fanfiction. The whole idea is that we can have the characters do what they want. And I resent being told that a time travelling fox is silly. As opposed to magic which is obviously not. **

**Chapter 22. **

Poppy had flooed up to Hermione's rooms to find her lying on her bed. She was barely conscious, covered in cuts, losing a lot of blood- but alive. And to the medi-witch's surprise, Severus never left her side. He continued to hold her hand whilst Poppy stabilized her, he carried her gently down to the hospital wing, and once there, stayed.

He had once attempted to leave to fetch a drink- but Hermione had grasped his hand and looked at him with such pleading in her eyes that he stayed. He wanted to tell her over and over again that he would never leave her- but the looks that passed between their eyes said it all.

In truth Severus felt a bit awkward- he knew of everything this girl had been willing to give up for him, and that was a new experience. He had never had someone care for him so much, and he had no idea how to express himself. Hermione looked at him with such doleful eyes- so trusting. He felt as if he would corrupt her just by stroking her hand. But of course, when he tried to pull away, she only had to look at him. Just one look and he knew, he just knew, she would not hurt him.

Of course, the world was soon alerted to Hermione's return. There was a media explosion, and the castle was once again besieged by journalists, trying to get an interview. Again Harry and Ron returned.

Ron looked surprisingly well. Hermione's 'abduction' had forced him to start washing again – he'd given many interviews playing the concerned fiancée. As far as the world was concerned, Ron was the ideal man. The extra media attention, in turn, had done it's favours to Ron. The Weasley's had had Ron move in with them whilst Harry cleaned his house, and Harry had made him swear before he moved back in that he would reduce his alcohol intake. He didn't suspect that it would happen, but it was a start.

So when a clean, sober, smiling Ron appeared in the castle, many heads turned. Severus had gone back to teaching his classes, and Hermione was for the time being resting in the hospital wing. Severus had smoothed down her hair and kissed her on the forehead before he left, smelling once again the coconut smell he now knew was her.

They had not yet had the 'discussion'- the discussion he dreaded. The 'what are we going to do' discussion. He wanted more than anything to be with her. He wanted to hold her in his arms, stroke her hair, and thank her over and over. She was more than just his heroine- she was intellectual, she was witty, she was beautiful and kind. While the rest of the world had branded him a death eater and cast him aside, she had smiled. And held his hand. But he had no idea how to tell her that.

So for now, they had settled into a routine of mutual affection. Severus longed to feel her lips on his for real- but had not the nerves to make it a reality. He didn't want to scare her. In truth he scared himself. The affection that rose inside him was like a tidal wave- strong, powerful and sudden. He knew he was tied to her through their experiences, but it still all felt so sudden. So unknown. So wonderful.

So he sat in his classes and dreamed- dreamed of running into the hospital wing and sweeping her off her feet.

Whilst Severus was dreaming, Ron was walking through the castle. He knew she would be back. Surely now she would see sense- she was best with him. She was protected with him. And she would see all the effort he'd made; well, his friends had made. Either way, she would see him and want him, he was sure of it.

He strode into the hospital wing, looking around. He could see Hermione in the end bed, sleeping. He could see Poppy in her office, looking flustered. He didn't know why, but she hadn't seen him, so he took the opportunity to sneak past and make his way to the sleeping girl.

Her golden brown hair was draped across the pillow and she looked so peaceful. He swept a curled tendril off her face, and she frowned slightly. Long dark eyelashes curled down her cheeks, her rosy lips pouted slightly. She was different to how he remembered. There were no bruises; her skin had a healthy glow. Her hair was shiny. She didn't look worried and tired, like the weight of the world was on her shoulders.

He sat down and looked at her.

He watched as her hands clenched slightly, slim little fingers gracefully aligned. He could remember when he had grasped those hands in his and asked her to marry him, to stay with him forever. He wanted to hold them now but they seemed so far away. He just couldn't make himself reach out and take them. This was the most peaceful he had seen her in months, and as much as he wanted her back, wanted her to love him, he had to admit. Even when sleeping she looked happy.

Putting his head in his hands, he sighed. He regretted so much everything that had happened. He was not cured. Not by a long shot. He could still hit her. He could still drink. He should leave now before he broke her more, he knew that. Rising from his chair, he looked into the fire grate that was brightly burning, keeping the wing warm. . He turned Hermione's engagement ring over in his hands- he had planned to give it back to her. But looking at it now it was a symbol of everything wrong he had ever done. Every mark he had made on her skin, every time he had made her cry. He threw the ring into the fire and walked out of the ward. He needed a new beginning, and when he eventually got his fiancée back, it would be with a new ring.

***

Hermione stretched out in her bed luxuriously- it felt so warm, so comfortable. So glad to be back. She opened her eyes and blinked sleepily, feeling well and rested for the first time in ages. Flipping over the covers, she was almost tempted to take off at a run. She knew that if Poppy saw her, it would be straight back to bed for at least another day, and she wanted to leave now.

Transfiguring her nightgown into some jeans and a jumper, she set off at a fast pace back to her rooms. It had been put off long enough – she wanted to tell Severus everything she felt. He was such a brave man. Neglected all through his life, and still wanting to make such sacrifices for the world. A lonely man. Hopefully she could help- she was filled with such tender affection for him. It had burned within her for such a long time- she remembered from the start, wanting to care for him. And as time had progressed the flame had grown and grown. When Severus had been reliving his past, Hermione had been able to feel his reaction. She knew how much he had cried for her, howled for her return. She knew that once she was back, Severus had not left her until she was well enough. He had remained, stroking her hand, long after nightfall. Long after the others had gone. And she needed to tell him. Tell him how much she wished it could always be like that- long nights, spent together, just talking.

But for that she could not be looking like a mop that had been dragged backwards through a bush. Opening up her portrait, she stepped inside her rooms, formulating a plan in her head.

***

Severus stepped into the great hall, planning to have dinner, do some marking, and then return to the hospital wing. It was a comfortable routine.

Sitting down, he served himself some food and began to eat. So engrossed in his sausages was he, that when the whole hall fell silent he did not even notice. He did not notice as Hermione Granger entered the hall by the side door, looking radiant. He did not notice as she made her way along the staff table, aiming to sit in her usual chair next to Severus. He only noticed when he realised that the chair next to him was moving, and began to frown. Who would presume to sit there? That was Hermione's seat, and he planned on keeping it that way.

Looking up, his mouth fell open. It was his heroine.

His heroine in sky blue robes, his heroine smiling. His heroine looking so happy. Her hair curled and fell across her back, and she lowered herself into her seat. And before he knew what was happening she grasped his hand and pulled him up, pulled him away. He didn't mind. Leading him across the great hall, he thought that he would follow her to the ends of the earth. She pulled him outside, out of views way, and turned to face him. Her hair blew about her like branches of a willow tree, and she looked stunning.

"You saved me." He mumbled, looking at her, hoping that she would understand. Hoping that she would know that he wanted to thank her, tell her she was more precious to him than gold. She smiled wryly.

"And you saved me."

With that she kissed him. It was simple. It was breathtaking.

She pulled her lips away from his, but not her head. Their noses touched side by side, and she placed her fingers on either side of his head, stroking his face with her eyes closed. He looked down at her.

"I want to continue saving you, Hermione. I want to protect you. I want to be with you. I want to….love you." It was like drawing blood from a stone for him, every word hurt. But it was worth it and he could not let her slip away.

She kissed him again. She tasted like a new beginning.

**A/N: That's it! **

**There is a sequel to this, which will be called. "The Return of the Father." I hope you enjoyed it, please review!**


	23. Return of the father

Dear readers: Firstly I would like to say thank you to everyone that read and enjoied this fic, and would like to say that I loved writing it.

I would also like to take this opportuinity to tell you that the sequal is posted, and i hope to hear your feedback on this soon :)

Just pop to my page and you can find it. It is called:

**"The Return of the father; sequel to Ritus Animus."**


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